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Chapter 1 First Love

A heavy rain began to pour relentlessly.

At the entrance of the hospital.

Standing at the hospital entrance, Cecilia Smith clutched the pregnancy test report in her delicate, frail hand. The result was unmistakable: not pregnant.

“Three years into marriage and you're still not pregnant?”

“You're so useless. If you don't get pregnant soon, the Rainsworth family will kick you out. What will become of the Smith family then?”

Dressed to the nines and teetering on her high heels, Paula Escobar, Cecilia's mother, pointed at her, her face a mask of disappointment.

Cecilia's eyes were empty. The words she longed to speak were stuck in her heart, finally condensing into a single sentence.

“I'm sorry.”

“I don't want you to apologize. What I want is for you to have a child with Nathaniel. Do you understand?”

Cecilia's throat felt parched. She was unsure of how to respond to her.

They had been married for three years, yet her husband, Nathaniel Rainsworth, had never laid a hand on her.

How could there possibly be a child?

Upon seeing her display of helplessness, Paula felt she was nothing like herself.

“If you really can't manage, then help Nathaniel find a woman outside. He will surely remember your kindness.”

Cecilia stared in disbelief at the retreating figure of her mother, unable to comprehend what had just happened.

Her biological mother, astonishingly, had asked her to find another woman for her own husband.

A chill instantly froze her heart to its core.

As Cecilia sat in the car heading home, Paula's last words echoed in her mind, accompanied by a sudden, intermittent roaring in her ears.

She knew her illness had worsened.

At that moment, she received a text message.

The message came from Nathaniel, as consistent as ever over the past three years. It read: I won't be coming home tonight.

Throughout their three years of marriage, Nathaniel had never spent a single night at home, nor did he ever touch her.

Cecilia still remembered their wedding night three years ago.

He had said, “Since you from the Smith family dare to trick me into marriage, then be ready to face a lifetime of solitude.”

Three years ago, the Smith and Rainsworth families had formed a business alliance through marriage.

The promise had already been made, a mutual benefit shared between both parties.

However, on the day of the wedding, the Smith family unexpectedly changed their minds. They transferred all of their assets, including the several billion given to Nathaniel for marrying Cecilia, elsewhere.

A shadow crossed Cecilia's eyes, but she responded to Nathaniel's message with a simple “okay” as usual.

Without realizing it, she had crumpled the pregnancy test report in her hand into a wrinkled ball.

When she got home, she tossed it into the trash can.

Every month, at this particular time, she would feel especially drained.

She didn't make any dinner and spent a while leaning on the couch, drifting in and out of a dreamlike state.

She constantly heard a rumbling noise in her ears.

This was also a reason why Nathaniel despised her. She was hard of hearing, which, in high society, was akin to having a disability.

How could Nathaniel possibly allow her to have a child in such a state?

The wall clock emitted a dull sound.

It was five in the morning.

In another hour, Nathaniel would be back.

Only after daybreak did Cecilia realize that she had unknowingly spent the entire night asleep on the couch.

She hurriedly got up to prepare breakfast for Nathaniel, fearing even a moment's delay.

Nathaniel was meticulous in his work, with a stringent regard for time. Once, Cecilia had to attend her father's funeral and forgot to return on time to prepare his breakfast.

Afterward, he didn't send her a single message nor spoke a word to her for an entire month.

At six o'clock, Nathaniel returned punctually.

He was impeccably dressed in a suit, his tall and slender figure exuding a restrained elegance. His handsome features were striking, yet they didn't lack a certain masculine charm.

But in Cecilia's eyes, his reflection was nothing but cold and detached.

Without even looking at Cecilia, he pulled out a chair and sat down. “You don't need to make breakfast for me anymore.”

Cecilia was taken aback.

She wasn't sure if it was instinct or something else, but the words she uttered reflected a humility she herself hadn't even realized.

“Did I do something wrong?”

Nathaniel looked up, his eyes meeting Cecilia's face, which had stayed impassive for the past three years. His lips parted slightly.

“What I want is a wife, not a housekeeper.”

For three years, Cecilia was always seen wearing the same light gray attire. Even when responding to text messages, she would use the same single word, “okay.”

If it weren't for the business alliance and the deception of the Smith family, Nathaniel wouldn't have married such a woman.

She was simply not his match.

What I want is a wife, not a housekeeper.

The ringing in Cecilia's ears grew louder.

A lump formed in her throat, and yet, she uttered the word that Nathaniel disliked the most.

“Okay.”

Suddenly, Nathaniel found himself feeling particularly moody, even his favorite breakfast on the table seemed unusually bland and tasteless.

He rose to his feet, pulling the chair back in irritation, ready to leave.

To his surprise, Cecilia mustered her courage and seized his hand.

“Nathaniel, is there someone you like?”

That sudden question caused Nathaniel's eyes to darken. “What do you mean?”

Cecilia looked up at the person standing before her.

Nathaniel was not just her husband of three years, but also the man she had pursued and loved for twelve years.

Swallowing down the bitterness in her throat, Cecilia thought about Paula's words and said, “Nathaniel, if there's someone you like, you can be with—”

Before she could finish her sentence, Nathaniel had already cut her off.

“You're crazy.”

In the end, life is all about continuously letting go.

After Nathaniel left, Cecilia found herself alone on the balcony, staring blankly at the rain outside.

She had to admit that even after twelve years of adoring Nathaniel, she still didn't understand him.

The sound of the rain was sometimes clear and sometimes muffled.

A month ago, the doctor had said, “Ms. Smith, your auditory nerves and central nervous system have undergone pathological changes, which have consequently led to a further decline in your hearing.”

“Isn't there a way to treat it?”

The doctor shook his head. “Long-term sensorineural hearing loss doesn't respond well to medication. My advice would be to continue using the hearing aid for auditory rehabilitation.”

Cecilia understood what the doctor meant; there was no cure available.

She removed her hearing aid.

In Cecilia's world, everything began to settle into tranquility.

She wasn't accustomed to such a quiet world. Upon entering the living room, she turned on the television.

The volume was turned up to the maximum, and only then could a faint sound be barely heard.

The television was airing an interview with Stella Ross, the internationally acclaimed queen of love songs, upon her return to the country.

Cecilia's hand, holding the remote control, trembled.

It wasn't for any other reason, but because Stella was once Nathaniel's first love.

After many years apart, Stella was still as beautiful as ever.

She faced the camera with ease and confidence, no longer the shy and self-conscious Cinderella who once sought the Smith family's financial support.

When reporters asked Stella why she had returned, she boldly replied, “I came back to reclaim my first love.”

The remote control in Cecilia's hand hit the floor.

At the same moment, her heart sank.

The rain outside seemed to have intensified.

Cecilia was scared. She feared that Stella would steal Nathaniel away from her.

Back then, she was the cherished daughter of the Smith family, yet she still couldn't outshine Stella, who had no background at all.

Now, Stella had become an internationally famous love song singer, exuding confidence and positivity. Naturally, she was not her match.

Cecilia panicked and swiftly turned off the television, then proceeded to clean up the untouched breakfast.

When she arrived in the kitchen, she realized that Nathaniel had left his phone behind.

She picked up the phone, accidentally unlocking it, and her eyes landed on an unread text message displayed on the screen.

Chapter 1 First Love

A heavy rain began to pour relentlessly.

At the entrance of the hospital.

Standing at the hospital entrance, Cecilia Smith clutched the pregnancy test report in her delicate, frail hand. The result was unmistakable: not pregnant.

“Three years into marriage and you're still not pregnant?”

“You're so useless. If you don't get pregnant soon, the Rainsworth family will kick you out. What will become of the Smith family then?”

Dressed to the nines and teetering on her high heels, Paula Escobar, Cecilia's mother, pointed at her, her face a mask of disappointment.

Cecilia's eyes were empty. The words she longed to speak were stuck in her heart, finally condensing into a single sentence.

“I'm sorry.”

“I don't want you to apologize. What I want is for you to have a child with Nathaniel. Do you understand?”

Cecilia's throat felt parched. She was unsure of how to respond to her.

They had been married for three years, yet her husband, Nathaniel Rainsworth, had never laid a hand on her.

How could there possibly be a child?

Upon seeing her display of helplessness, Paula felt she was nothing like herself.

“If you really can't manage, then help Nathaniel find a woman outside. He will surely remember your kindness.”

Cecilia stared in disbelief at the retreating figure of her mother, unable to comprehend what had just happened.

Her biological mother, astonishingly, had asked her to find another woman for her own husband.

A chill instantly froze her heart to its core.

As Cecilia sat in the car heading home, Paula's last words echoed in her mind, accompanied by a sudden, intermittent roaring in her ears.

She knew her illness had worsened.

At that moment, she received a text message.

The message came from Nathaniel, as consistent as ever over the past three years. It read: I won't be coming home tonight.

Throughout their three years of marriage, Nathaniel had never spent a single night at home, nor did he ever touch her.

Cecilia still remembered their wedding night three years ago.

He had said, “Since you from the Smith family dare to trick me into marriage, then be ready to face a lifetime of solitude.”

Three years ago, the Smith and Rainsworth families had formed a business alliance through marriage.

The promise had already been made, a mutual benefit shared between both parties.

However, on the day of the wedding, the Smith family unexpectedly changed their minds. They transferred all of their assets, including the several billion given to Nathaniel for marrying Cecilia, elsewhere.

A shadow crossed Cecilia's eyes, but she responded to Nathaniel's message with a simple “okay” as usual.

Without realizing it, she had crumpled the pregnancy test report in her hand into a wrinkled ball.

When she got home, she tossed it into the trash can.

Every month, at this particular time, she would feel especially drained.

She didn't make any dinner and spent a while leaning on the couch, drifting in and out of a dreamlike state.

She constantly heard a rumbling noise in her ears.

This was also a reason why Nathaniel despised her. She was hard of hearing, which, in high society, was akin to having a disability.

How could Nathaniel possibly allow her to have a child in such a state?

The wall clock emitted a dull sound.

It was five in the morning.

In another hour, Nathaniel would be back.

Only after daybreak did Cecilia realize that she had unknowingly spent the entire night asleep on the couch.

She hurriedly got up to prepare breakfast for Nathaniel, fearing even a moment's delay.

Nathaniel was meticulous in his work, with a stringent regard for time. Once, Cecilia had to attend her father's funeral and forgot to return on time to prepare his breakfast.

Afterward, he didn't send her a single message nor spoke a word to her for an entire month.

At six o'clock, Nathaniel returned punctually.

He was impeccably dressed in a suit, his tall and slender figure exuding a restrained elegance. His handsome features were striking, yet they didn't lack a certain masculine charm.

But in Cecilia's eyes, his reflection was nothing but cold and detached.

Without even looking at Cecilia, he pulled out a chair and sat down. “You don't need to make breakfast for me anymore.”

Cecilia was taken aback.

She wasn't sure if it was instinct or something else, but the words she uttered reflected a humility she herself hadn't even realized.

“Did I do something wrong?”

Nathaniel looked up, his eyes meeting Cecilia's face, which had stayed impassive for the past three years. His lips parted slightly.

“What I want is a wife, not a housekeeper.”

For three years, Cecilia was always seen wearing the same light gray attire. Even when responding to text messages, she would use the same single word, “okay.”

If it weren't for the business alliance and the deception of the Smith family, Nathaniel wouldn't have married such a woman.

She was simply not his match.

What I want is a wife, not a housekeeper.

The ringing in Cecilia's ears grew louder.

A lump formed in her throat, and yet, she uttered the word that Nathaniel disliked the most.

“Okay.”

Suddenly, Nathaniel found himself feeling particularly moody, even his favorite breakfast on the table seemed unusually bland and tasteless.

He rose to his feet, pulling the chair back in irritation, ready to leave.

To his surprise, Cecilia mustered her courage and seized his hand.

“Nathaniel, is there someone you like?”

That sudden question caused Nathaniel's eyes to darken. “What do you mean?”

Cecilia looked up at the person standing before her.

Nathaniel was not just her husband of three years, but also the man she had pursued and loved for twelve years.

Swallowing down the bitterness in her throat, Cecilia thought about Paula's words and said, “Nathaniel, if there's someone you like, you can be with—”

Before she could finish her sentence, Nathaniel had already cut her off.

“You're crazy.”

In the end, life is all about continuously letting go.

After Nathaniel left, Cecilia found herself alone on the balcony, staring blankly at the rain outside.

She had to admit that even after twelve years of adoring Nathaniel, she still didn't understand him.

The sound of the rain was sometimes clear and sometimes muffled.

A month ago, the doctor had said, “Ms. Smith, your auditory nerves and central nervous system have undergone pathological changes, which have consequently led to a further decline in your hearing.”

“Isn't there a way to treat it?”

The doctor shook his head. “Long-term sensorineural hearing loss doesn't respond well to medication. My advice would be to continue using the hearing aid for auditory rehabilitation.”

Cecilia understood what the doctor meant; there was no cure available.

She removed her hearing aid.

In Cecilia's world, everything began to settle into tranquility.

She wasn't accustomed to such a quiet world. Upon entering the living room, she turned on the television.

The volume was turned up to the maximum, and only then could a faint sound be barely heard.

The television was airing an interview with Stella Ross, the internationally acclaimed queen of love songs, upon her return to the country.

Cecilia's hand, holding the remote control, trembled.

It wasn't for any other reason, but because Stella was once Nathaniel's first love.

After many years apart, Stella was still as beautiful as ever.

She faced the camera with ease and confidence, no longer the shy and self-conscious Cinderella who once sought the Smith family's financial support.

When reporters asked Stella why she had returned, she boldly replied, “I came back to reclaim my first love.”

The remote control in Cecilia's hand hit the floor.

At the same moment, her heart sank.

The rain outside seemed to have intensified.

Cecilia was scared. She feared that Stella would steal Nathaniel away from her.

Back then, she was the cherished daughter of the Smith family, yet she still couldn't outshine Stella, who had no background at all.

Now, Stella had become an internationally famous love song singer, exuding confidence and positivity. Naturally, she was not her match.

Cecilia panicked and swiftly turned off the television, then proceeded to clean up the untouched breakfast.

When she arrived in the kitchen, she realized that Nathaniel had left his phone behind.

She picked up the phone, accidentally unlocking it, and her eyes landed on an unread text message displayed on the screen.

Chapter 1 First Love

A heavy rain began to pour relentlessly.

At the entrance of the hospital.

Standing at the hospital entrance, Cecilia Smith clutched the pregnancy test report in her delicate, frail hand. The result was unmistakable: not pregnant.

“Three years into marriage and you're still not pregnant?”

“You're so useless. If you don't get pregnant soon, the Rainsworth family will kick you out. What will become of the Smith family then?”

Dressed to the nines and teetering on her high heels, Paula Escobar, Cecilia's mother, pointed at her, her face a mask of disappointment.

Cecilia's eyes were empty. The words she longed to speak were stuck in her heart, finally condensing into a single sentence.

“I'm sorry.”

“I don't want you to apologize. What I want is for you to have a child with Nathaniel. Do you understand?”

Cecilia's throat felt parched. She was unsure of how to respond to her.

They had been married for three years, yet her husband, Nathaniel Rainsworth, had never laid a hand on her.

How could there possibly be a child?

Upon seeing her display of helplessness, Paula felt she was nothing like herself.

“If you really can't manage, then help Nathaniel find a woman outside. He will surely remember your kindness.”

Cecilia stared in disbelief at the retreating figure of her mother, unable to comprehend what had just happened.

Her biological mother, astonishingly, had asked her to find another woman for her own husband.

A chill instantly froze her heart to its core.

As Cecilia sat in the car heading home, Paula's last words echoed in her mind, accompanied by a sudden, intermittent roaring in her ears.

She knew her illness had worsened.

At that moment, she received a text message.

The message came from Nathaniel, as consistent as ever over the past three years. It read: I won't be coming home tonight.

Throughout their three years of marriage, Nathaniel had never spent a single night at home, nor did he ever touch her.

Cecilia still remembered their wedding night three years ago.

He had said, “Since you from the Smith family dare to trick me into marriage, then be ready to face a lifetime of solitude.”

Three years ago, the Smith and Rainsworth families had formed a business alliance through marriage.

The promise had already been made, a mutual benefit shared between both parties.

However, on the day of the wedding, the Smith family unexpectedly changed their minds. They transferred all of their assets, including the several billion given to Nathaniel for marrying Cecilia, elsewhere.

A shadow crossed Cecilia's eyes, but she responded to Nathaniel's message with a simple “okay” as usual.

Without realizing it, she had crumpled the pregnancy test report in her hand into a wrinkled ball.

When she got home, she tossed it into the trash can.

Every month, at this particular time, she would feel especially drained.

She didn't make any dinner and spent a while leaning on the couch, drifting in and out of a dreamlike state.

She constantly heard a rumbling noise in her ears.

This was also a reason why Nathaniel despised her. She was hard of hearing, which, in high society, was akin to having a disability.

How could Nathaniel possibly allow her to have a child in such a state?

The wall clock emitted a dull sound.

It was five in the morning.

In another hour, Nathaniel would be back.

Only after daybreak did Cecilia realize that she had unknowingly spent the entire night asleep on the couch.

She hurriedly got up to prepare breakfast for Nathaniel, fearing even a moment's delay.

Nathaniel was meticulous in his work, with a stringent regard for time. Once, Cecilia had to attend her father's funeral and forgot to return on time to prepare his breakfast.

Afterward, he didn't send her a single message nor spoke a word to her for an entire month.

At six o'clock, Nathaniel returned punctually.

He was impeccably dressed in a suit, his tall and slender figure exuding a restrained elegance. His handsome features were striking, yet they didn't lack a certain masculine charm.

But in Cecilia's eyes, his reflection was nothing but cold and detached.

Without even looking at Cecilia, he pulled out a chair and sat down. “You don't need to make breakfast for me anymore.”

Cecilia was taken aback.

She wasn't sure if it was instinct or something else, but the words she uttered reflected a humility she herself hadn't even realized.

“Did I do something wrong?”

Nathaniel looked up, his eyes meeting Cecilia's face, which had stayed impassive for the past three years. His lips parted slightly.

“What I want is a wife, not a housekeeper.”

For three years, Cecilia was always seen wearing the same light gray attire. Even when responding to text messages, she would use the same single word, “okay.”

If it weren't for the business alliance and the deception of the Smith family, Nathaniel wouldn't have married such a woman.

She was simply not his match.

What I want is a wife, not a housekeeper.

The ringing in Cecilia's ears grew louder.

A lump formed in her throat, and yet, she uttered the word that Nathaniel disliked the most.

“Okay.”

Suddenly, Nathaniel found himself feeling particularly moody, even his favorite breakfast on the table seemed unusually bland and tasteless.

He rose to his feet, pulling the chair back in irritation, ready to leave.

To his surprise, Cecilia mustered her courage and seized his hand.

“Nathaniel, is there someone you like?”

That sudden question caused Nathaniel's eyes to darken. “What do you mean?”

Cecilia looked up at the person standing before her.

Nathaniel was not just her husband of three years, but also the man she had pursued and loved for twelve years.

Swallowing down the bitterness in her throat, Cecilia thought about Paula's words and said, “Nathaniel, if there's someone you like, you can be with—”

Before she could finish her sentence, Nathaniel had already cut her off.

“You're crazy.”

In the end, life is all about continuously letting go.

After Nathaniel left, Cecilia found herself alone on the balcony, staring blankly at the rain outside.

She had to admit that even after twelve years of adoring Nathaniel, she still didn't understand him.

The sound of the rain was sometimes clear and sometimes muffled.

A month ago, the doctor had said, “Ms. Smith, your auditory nerves and central nervous system have undergone pathological changes, which have consequently led to a further decline in your hearing.”

“Isn't there a way to treat it?”

The doctor shook his head. “Long-term sensorineural hearing loss doesn't respond well to medication. My advice would be to continue using the hearing aid for auditory rehabilitation.”

Cecilia understood what the doctor meant; there was no cure available.

She removed her hearing aid.

In Cecilia's world, everything began to settle into tranquility.

She wasn't accustomed to such a quiet world. Upon entering the living room, she turned on the television.

The volume was turned up to the maximum, and only then could a faint sound be barely heard.

The television was airing an interview with Stella Ross, the internationally acclaimed queen of love songs, upon her return to the country.

Cecilia's hand, holding the remote control, trembled.

It wasn't for any other reason, but because Stella was once Nathaniel's first love.

After many years apart, Stella was still as beautiful as ever.

She faced the camera with ease and confidence, no longer the shy and self-conscious Cinderella who once sought the Smith family's financial support.

When reporters asked Stella why she had returned, she boldly replied, “I came back to reclaim my first love.”

The remote control in Cecilia's hand hit the floor.

At the same moment, her heart sank.

The rain outside seemed to have intensified.

Cecilia was scared. She feared that Stella would steal Nathaniel away from her.

Back then, she was the cherished daughter of the Smith family, yet she still couldn't outshine Stella, who had no background at all.

Now, Stella had become an internationally famous love song singer, exuding confidence and positivity. Naturally, she was not her match.

Cecilia panicked and swiftly turned off the television, then proceeded to clean up the untouched breakfast.

When she arrived in the kitchen, she realized that Nathaniel had left his phone behind.

She picked up the phone, accidentally unlocking it, and her eyes landed on an unread text message displayed on the screen.

Chapter 1 First Love

A heavy rain began to pour relentlessly.

At the entrance of the hospital.

Standing at the hospital entrance, Cecilia Smith clutched the pregnancy test report in her delicate, frail hand. The result was unmistakable: not pregnant.

“Three years into marriage and you're still not pregnant?”

“You're so useless. If you don't get pregnant soon, the Rainsworth family will kick you out. What will become of the Smith family then?”

Dressed to the nines and teetering on her high heels, Paula Escobar, Cecilia's mother, pointed at her, her face a mask of disappointment.

Cecilia's eyes were empty. The words she longed to speak were stuck in her heart, finally condensing into a single sentence.

“I'm sorry.”

“I don't want you to apologize. What I want is for you to have a child with Nathaniel. Do you understand?”

Cecilia's throat felt parched. She was unsure of how to respond to her.

They had been married for three years, yet her husband, Nathaniel Rainsworth, had never laid a hand on her.

How could there possibly be a child?

Upon seeing her display of helplessness, Paula felt she was nothing like herself.

“If you really can't manage, then help Nathaniel find a woman outside. He will surely remember your kindness.”

Cecilia stared in disbelief at the retreating figure of her mother, unable to comprehend what had just happened.

Her biological mother, astonishingly, had asked her to find another woman for her own husband.

A chill instantly froze her heart to its core.

As Cecilia sat in the car heading home, Paula's last words echoed in her mind, accompanied by a sudden, intermittent roaring in her ears.

She knew her illness had worsened.

At that moment, she received a text message.

The message came from Nathaniel, as consistent as ever over the past three years. It read: I won't be coming home tonight.

Throughout their three years of marriage, Nathaniel had never spent a single night at home, nor did he ever touch her.

Cecilia still remembered their wedding night three years ago.

He had said, “Since you from the Smith family dare to trick me into marriage, then be ready to face a lifetime of solitude.”

Three years ago, the Smith and Rainsworth families had formed a business alliance through marriage.

The promise had already been made, a mutual benefit shared between both parties.

However, on the day of the wedding, the Smith family unexpectedly changed their minds. They transferred all of their assets, including the several billion given to Nathaniel for marrying Cecilia, elsewhere.

A shadow crossed Cecilia's eyes, but she responded to Nathaniel's message with a simple “okay” as usual.

Without realizing it, she had crumpled the pregnancy test report in her hand into a wrinkled ball.

When she got home, she tossed it into the trash can.

Every month, at this particular time, she would feel especially drained.

She didn't make any dinner and spent a while leaning on the couch, drifting in and out of a dreamlike state.

She constantly heard a rumbling noise in her ears.

This was also a reason why Nathaniel despised her. She was hard of hearing, which, in high society, was akin to having a disability.

How could Nathaniel possibly allow her to have a child in such a state?

The wall clock emitted a dull sound.

It was five in the morning.

In another hour, Nathaniel would be back.

Only after daybreak did Cecilia realize that she had unknowingly spent the entire night asleep on the couch.

She hurriedly got up to prepare breakfast for Nathaniel, fearing even a moment's delay.

Nathaniel was meticulous in his work, with a stringent regard for time. Once, Cecilia had to attend her father's funeral and forgot to return on time to prepare his breakfast.

Afterward, he didn't send her a single message nor spoke a word to her for an entire month.

At six o'clock, Nathaniel returned punctually.

He was impeccably dressed in a suit, his tall and slender figure exuding a restrained elegance. His handsome features were striking, yet they didn't lack a certain masculine charm.

But in Cecilia's eyes, his reflection was nothing but cold and detached.

Without even looking at Cecilia, he pulled out a chair and sat down. “You don't need to make breakfast for me anymore.”

Cecilia was taken aback.

She wasn't sure if it was instinct or something else, but the words she uttered reflected a humility she herself hadn't even realized.

“Did I do something wrong?”

Nathaniel looked up, his eyes meeting Cecilia's face, which had stayed impassive for the past three years. His lips parted slightly.

“What I want is a wife, not a housekeeper.”

For three years, Cecilia was always seen wearing the same light gray attire. Even when responding to text messages, she would use the same single word, “okay.”

If it weren't for the business alliance and the deception of the Smith family, Nathaniel wouldn't have married such a woman.

She was simply not his match.

What I want is a wife, not a housekeeper.

The ringing in Cecilia's ears grew louder.

A lump formed in her throat, and yet, she uttered the word that Nathaniel disliked the most.

“Okay.”

Suddenly, Nathaniel found himself feeling particularly moody, even his favorite breakfast on the table seemed unusually bland and tasteless.

He rose to his feet, pulling the chair back in irritation, ready to leave.

To his surprise, Cecilia mustered her courage and seized his hand.

“Nathaniel, is there someone you like?”

That sudden question caused Nathaniel's eyes to darken. “What do you mean?”

Cecilia looked up at the person standing before her.

Nathaniel was not just her husband of three years, but also the man she had pursued and loved for twelve years.

Swallowing down the bitterness in her throat, Cecilia thought about Paula's words and said, “Nathaniel, if there's someone you like, you can be with—”

Before she could finish her sentence, Nathaniel had already cut her off.

“You're crazy.”

In the end, life is all about continuously letting go.

After Nathaniel left, Cecilia found herself alone on the balcony, staring blankly at the rain outside.

She had to admit that even after twelve years of adoring Nathaniel, she still didn't understand him.

The sound of the rain was sometimes clear and sometimes muffled.

A month ago, the doctor had said, “Ms. Smith, your auditory nerves and central nervous system have undergone pathological changes, which have consequently led to a further decline in your hearing.”

“Isn't there a way to treat it?”

The doctor shook his head. “Long-term sensorineural hearing loss doesn't respond well to medication. My advice would be to continue using the hearing aid for auditory rehabilitation.”

Cecilia understood what the doctor meant; there was no cure available.

She removed her hearing aid.

In Cecilia's world, everything began to settle into tranquility.

She wasn't accustomed to such a quiet world. Upon entering the living room, she turned on the television.

The volume was turned up to the maximum, and only then could a faint sound be barely heard.

The television was airing an interview with Stella Ross, the internationally acclaimed queen of love songs, upon her return to the country.

Cecilia's hand, holding the remote control, trembled.

It wasn't for any other reason, but because Stella was once Nathaniel's first love.

After many years apart, Stella was still as beautiful as ever.

She faced the camera with ease and confidence, no longer the shy and self-conscious Cinderella who once sought the Smith family's financial support.

When reporters asked Stella why she had returned, she boldly replied, “I came back to reclaim my first love.”

The remote control in Cecilia's hand hit the floor.

At the same moment, her heart sank.

The rain outside seemed to have intensified.

Cecilia was scared. She feared that Stella would steal Nathaniel away from her.

Back then, she was the cherished daughter of the Smith family, yet she still couldn't outshine Stella, who had no background at all.

Now, Stella had become an internationally famous love song singer, exuding confidence and positivity. Naturally, she was not her match.

Cecilia panicked and swiftly turned off the television, then proceeded to clean up the untouched breakfast.

When she arrived in the kitchen, she realized that Nathaniel had left his phone behind.

She picked up the phone, accidentally unlocking it, and her eyes landed on an unread text message displayed on the screen.

Chapter 1 First Love

A heavy rain began to pour relentlessly.

At the entrance of the hospital.

Standing at the hospital entrance, Cecilia Smith clutched the pregnancy test report in her delicate, frail hand. The result was unmistakable: not pregnant.

“Three years into marriage and you're still not pregnant?”

“You're so useless. If you don't get pregnant soon, the Rainsworth family will kick you out. What will become of the Smith family then?”

Dressed to the nines and teetering on her high heels, Paula Escobar, Cecilia's mother, pointed at her, her face a mask of disappointment.

Cecilia's eyes were empty. The words she longed to speak were stuck in her heart, finally condensing into a single sentence.

“I'm sorry.”

“I don't want you to apologize. What I want is for you to have a child with Nathaniel. Do you understand?”

Cecilia's throat felt parched. She was unsure of how to respond to her.

They had been married for three years, yet her husband, Nathaniel Rainsworth, had never laid a hand on her.

How could there possibly be a child?

Upon seeing her display of helplessness, Paula felt she was nothing like herself.

“If you really can't manage, then help Nathaniel find a woman outside. He will surely remember your kindness.”

Cecilia stared in disbelief at the retreating figure of her mother, unable to comprehend what had just happened.

Her biological mother, astonishingly, had asked her to find another woman for her own husband.

A chill instantly froze her heart to its core.

As Cecilia sat in the car heading home, Paula's last words echoed in her mind, accompanied by a sudden, intermittent roaring in her ears.

She knew her illness had worsened.

At that moment, she received a text message.

The message came from Nathaniel, as consistent as ever over the past three years. It read: I won't be coming home tonight.

Throughout their three years of marriage, Nathaniel had never spent a single night at home, nor did he ever touch her.

Cecilia still remembered their wedding night three years ago.

He had said, “Since you from the Smith family dare to trick me into marriage, then be ready to face a lifetime of solitude.”

Three years ago, the Smith and Rainsworth families had formed a business alliance through marriage.

The promise had already been made, a mutual benefit shared between both parties.

However, on the day of the wedding, the Smith family unexpectedly changed their minds. They transferred all of their assets, including the several billion given to Nathaniel for marrying Cecilia, elsewhere.

A shadow crossed Cecilia's eyes, but she responded to Nathaniel's message with a simple “okay” as usual.

Without realizing it, she had crumpled the pregnancy test report in her hand into a wrinkled ball.

When she got home, she tossed it into the trash can.

Every month, at this particular time, she would feel especially drained.

She didn't make any dinner and spent a while leaning on the couch, drifting in and out of a dreamlike state.

She constantly heard a rumbling noise in her ears.

This was also a reason why Nathaniel despised her. She was hard of hearing, which, in high society, was akin to having a disability.

How could Nathaniel possibly allow her to have a child in such a state?

The wall clock emitted a dull sound.

It was five in the morning.

In another hour, Nathaniel would be back.

Only after daybreak did Cecilia realize that she had unknowingly spent the entire night asleep on the couch.

She hurriedly got up to prepare breakfast for Nathaniel, fearing even a moment's delay.

Nathaniel was meticulous in his work, with a stringent regard for time. Once, Cecilia had to attend her father's funeral and forgot to return on time to prepare his breakfast.

Afterward, he didn't send her a single message nor spoke a word to her for an entire month.

At six o'clock, Nathaniel returned punctually.

He was impeccably dressed in a suit, his tall and slender figure exuding a restrained elegance. His handsome features were striking, yet they didn't lack a certain masculine charm.

But in Cecilia's eyes, his reflection was nothing but cold and detached.

Without even looking at Cecilia, he pulled out a chair and sat down. “You don't need to make breakfast for me anymore.”

Cecilia was taken aback.

She wasn't sure if it was instinct or something else, but the words she uttered reflected a humility she herself hadn't even realized.

“Did I do something wrong?”

Nathaniel looked up, his eyes meeting Cecilia's face, which had stayed impassive for the past three years. His lips parted slightly.

“What I want is a wife, not a housekeeper.”

For three years, Cecilia was always seen wearing the same light gray attire. Even when responding to text messages, she would use the same single word, “okay.”

If it weren't for the business alliance and the deception of the Smith family, Nathaniel wouldn't have married such a woman.

She was simply not his match.

What I want is a wife, not a housekeeper.

The ringing in Cecilia's ears grew louder.

A lump formed in her throat, and yet, she uttered the word that Nathaniel disliked the most.

“Okay.”

Suddenly, Nathaniel found himself feeling particularly moody, even his favorite breakfast on the table seemed unusually bland and tasteless.

He rose to his feet, pulling the chair back in irritation, ready to leave.

To his surprise, Cecilia mustered her courage and seized his hand.

“Nathaniel, is there someone you like?”

That sudden question caused Nathaniel's eyes to darken. “What do you mean?”

Cecilia looked up at the person standing before her.

Nathaniel was not just her husband of three years, but also the man she had pursued and loved for twelve years.

Swallowing down the bitterness in her throat, Cecilia thought about Paula's words and said, “Nathaniel, if there's someone you like, you can be with—”

Before she could finish her sentence, Nathaniel had already cut her off.

“You're crazy.”

In the end, life is all about continuously letting go.

After Nathaniel left, Cecilia found herself alone on the balcony, staring blankly at the rain outside.

She had to admit that even after twelve years of adoring Nathaniel, she still didn't understand him.

The sound of the rain was sometimes clear and sometimes muffled.

A month ago, the doctor had said, “Ms. Smith, your auditory nerves and central nervous system have undergone pathological changes, which have consequently led to a further decline in your hearing.”

“Isn't there a way to treat it?”

The doctor shook his head. “Long-term sensorineural hearing loss doesn't respond well to medication. My advice would be to continue using the hearing aid for auditory rehabilitation.”

Cecilia understood what the doctor meant; there was no cure available.

She removed her hearing aid.

In Cecilia's world, everything began to settle into tranquility.

She wasn't accustomed to such a quiet world. Upon entering the living room, she turned on the television.

The volume was turned up to the maximum, and only then could a faint sound be barely heard.

The television was airing an interview with Stella Ross, the internationally acclaimed queen of love songs, upon her return to the country.

Cecilia's hand, holding the remote control, trembled.

It wasn't for any other reason, but because Stella was once Nathaniel's first love.

After many years apart, Stella was still as beautiful as ever.

She faced the camera with ease and confidence, no longer the shy and self-conscious Cinderella who once sought the Smith family's financial support.

When reporters asked Stella why she had returned, she boldly replied, “I came back to reclaim my first love.”

The remote control in Cecilia's hand hit the floor.

At the same moment, her heart sank.

The rain outside seemed to have intensified.

Cecilia was scared. She feared that Stella would steal Nathaniel away from her.

Back then, she was the cherished daughter of the Smith family, yet she still couldn't outshine Stella, who had no background at all.

Now, Stella had become an internationally famous love song singer, exuding confidence and positivity. Naturally, she was not her match.

Cecilia panicked and swiftly turned off the television, then proceeded to clean up the untouched breakfast.

When she arrived in the kitchen, she realized that Nathaniel had left his phone behind.

She picked up the phone, accidentally unlocking it, and her eyes landed on an unread text message displayed on the screen.

Chapter 1 First Love

A heavy rain began to pour relentlessly.

At the entrance of the hospital.

Standing at the hospital entrance, Cecilia Smith clutched the pregnancy test report in her delicate, frail hand. The result was unmistakable: not pregnant.

“Three years into marriage and you're still not pregnant?”

“You're so useless. If you don't get pregnant soon, the Rainsworth family will kick you out. What will become of the Smith family then?”

Dressed to the nines and teetering on her high heels, Paula Escobar, Cecilia's mother, pointed at her, her face a mask of disappointment.

Cecilia's eyes were empty. The words she longed to speak were stuck in her heart, finally condensing into a single sentence.

“I'm sorry.”

“I don't want you to apologize. What I want is for you to have a child with Nathaniel. Do you understand?”

Cecilia's throat felt parched. She was unsure of how to respond to her.

They had been married for three years, yet her husband, Nathaniel Rainsworth, had never laid a hand on her.

How could there possibly be a child?

Upon seeing her display of helplessness, Paula felt she was nothing like herself.

“If you really can't manage, then help Nathaniel find a woman outside. He will surely remember your kindness.”

Cecilia stared in disbelief at the retreating figure of her mother, unable to comprehend what had just happened.

Her biological mother, astonishingly, had asked her to find another woman for her own husband.

A chill instantly froze her heart to its core.

As Cecilia sat in the car heading home, Paula's last words echoed in her mind, accompanied by a sudden, intermittent roaring in her ears.

She knew her illness had worsened.

At that moment, she received a text message.

The message came from Nathaniel, as consistent as ever over the past three years. It read: I won't be coming home tonight.

Throughout their three years of marriage, Nathaniel had never spent a single night at home, nor did he ever touch her.

Cecilia still remembered their wedding night three years ago.

He had said, “Since you from the Smith family dare to trick me into marriage, then be ready to face a lifetime of solitude.”

Three years ago, the Smith and Rainsworth families had formed a business alliance through marriage.

The promise had already been made, a mutual benefit shared between both parties.

However, on the day of the wedding, the Smith family unexpectedly changed their minds. They transferred all of their assets, including the several billion given to Nathaniel for marrying Cecilia, elsewhere.

A shadow crossed Cecilia's eyes, but she responded to Nathaniel's message with a simple “okay” as usual.

Without realizing it, she had crumpled the pregnancy test report in her hand into a wrinkled ball.

When she got home, she tossed it into the trash can.

Every month, at this particular time, she would feel especially drained.

She didn't make any dinner and spent a while leaning on the couch, drifting in and out of a dreamlike state.

She constantly heard a rumbling noise in her ears.

This was also a reason why Nathaniel despised her. She was hard of hearing, which, in high society, was akin to having a disability.

How could Nathaniel possibly allow her to have a child in such a state?

The wall clock emitted a dull sound.

It was five in the morning.

In another hour, Nathaniel would be back.

Only after daybreak did Cecilia realize that she had unknowingly spent the entire night asleep on the couch.

She hurriedly got up to prepare breakfast for Nathaniel, fearing even a moment's delay.

Nathaniel was meticulous in his work, with a stringent regard for time. Once, Cecilia had to attend her father's funeral and forgot to return on time to prepare his breakfast.

Afterward, he didn't send her a single message nor spoke a word to her for an entire month.

At six o'clock, Nathaniel returned punctually.

He was impeccably dressed in a suit, his tall and slender figure exuding a restrained elegance. His handsome features were striking, yet they didn't lack a certain masculine charm.

But in Cecilia's eyes, his reflection was nothing but cold and detached.

Without even looking at Cecilia, he pulled out a chair and sat down. “You don't need to make breakfast for me anymore.”

Cecilia was taken aback.

She wasn't sure if it was instinct or something else, but the words she uttered reflected a humility she herself hadn't even realized.

“Did I do something wrong?”

Nathaniel looked up, his eyes meeting Cecilia's face, which had stayed impassive for the past three years. His lips parted slightly.

“What I want is a wife, not a housekeeper.”

For three years, Cecilia was always seen wearing the same light gray attire. Even when responding to text messages, she would use the same single word, “okay.”

If it weren't for the business alliance and the deception of the Smith family, Nathaniel wouldn't have married such a woman.

She was simply not his match.

What I want is a wife, not a housekeeper.

The ringing in Cecilia's ears grew louder.

A lump formed in her throat, and yet, she uttered the word that Nathaniel disliked the most.

“Okay.”

Suddenly, Nathaniel found himself feeling particularly moody, even his favorite breakfast on the table seemed unusually bland and tasteless.

He rose to his feet, pulling the chair back in irritation, ready to leave.

To his surprise, Cecilia mustered her courage and seized his hand.

“Nathaniel, is there someone you like?”

That sudden question caused Nathaniel's eyes to darken. “What do you mean?”

Cecilia looked up at the person standing before her.

Nathaniel was not just her husband of three years, but also the man she had pursued and loved for twelve years.

Swallowing down the bitterness in her throat, Cecilia thought about Paula's words and said, “Nathaniel, if there's someone you like, you can be with—”

Before she could finish her sentence, Nathaniel had already cut her off.

“You're crazy.”

In the end, life is all about continuously letting go.

After Nathaniel left, Cecilia found herself alone on the balcony, staring blankly at the rain outside.

She had to admit that even after twelve years of adoring Nathaniel, she still didn't understand him.

The sound of the rain was sometimes clear and sometimes muffled.

A month ago, the doctor had said, “Ms. Smith, your auditory nerves and central nervous system have undergone pathological changes, which have consequently led to a further decline in your hearing.”

“Isn't there a way to treat it?”

The doctor shook his head. “Long-term sensorineural hearing loss doesn't respond well to medication. My advice would be to continue using the hearing aid for auditory rehabilitation.”

Cecilia understood what the doctor meant; there was no cure available.

She removed her hearing aid.

In Cecilia's world, everything began to settle into tranquility.

She wasn't accustomed to such a quiet world. Upon entering the living room, she turned on the television.

The volume was turned up to the maximum, and only then could a faint sound be barely heard.

The television was airing an interview with Stella Ross, the internationally acclaimed queen of love songs, upon her return to the country.

Cecilia's hand, holding the remote control, trembled.

It wasn't for any other reason, but because Stella was once Nathaniel's first love.

After many years apart, Stella was still as beautiful as ever.

She faced the camera with ease and confidence, no longer the shy and self-conscious Cinderella who once sought the Smith family's financial support.

When reporters asked Stella why she had returned, she boldly replied, “I came back to reclaim my first love.”

The remote control in Cecilia's hand hit the floor.

At the same moment, her heart sank.

The rain outside seemed to have intensified.

Cecilia was scared. She feared that Stella would steal Nathaniel away from her.

Back then, she was the cherished daughter of the Smith family, yet she still couldn't outshine Stella, who had no background at all.

Now, Stella had become an internationally famous love song singer, exuding confidence and positivity. Naturally, she was not her match.

Cecilia panicked and swiftly turned off the television, then proceeded to clean up the untouched breakfast.

When she arrived in the kitchen, she realized that Nathaniel had left his phone behind.

She picked up the phone, accidentally unlocking it, and her eyes landed on an unread text message displayed on the screen.

👉📚"I heard you're planning to have a bunch of boyfriends after the divorce?"I sabella was shocked, "He can hear my thoughts!!"📚
Chapter 1 Finally A Divorce
“Sign it. After the divorce, I won't press any legal charges against you. I'll even give you two hundred million more and separate your studio for you to own independently. Then there's the one at the city center...” A deep, pleasing, yet chilling voice resonated.
Isabella Jeannet couldn't help but cover her mouth with her hand, preventing herself from bursting into laughter.
Reflected in her beautiful almond-shaped eyes were numbers with many, many zeroes.
She carefully examined the divorce agreement, counting the zeroes.
The tall man sitting across the office desk had his handsome, noble brows furrowed. His eyes were as dark and glossy, radiating a cool hue. He watched as the trembling Isabella lowered her head and covered her mouth.
The chill in his heart grew even colder.

If only Alexander Quirk had known what would happen back then, he would never have tolerated it from the start.

Isabella was a woman who was both pitiful and detestable in his eyes. Her parents had been lifelong friends with the Quirk family, but they passed away before she even came of age.

Due to a dying wish, the Quirk family took in Isabella. Unexpectedly, she repaid their kindness with treachery by scheming to become his wife.

After that, he never lived in peace. He was pursued relentlessly and harassed without reason. His life into a complete mess thanks to her.

Some time ago, she even stole company secrets and passed them to a rival corporation, causing them to lose a major project. That led to a wave of resentment throughout the entire company.

To appease the board members, he had to divorce her.

“I've shown extreme benevolence and magnanimity. I hope you know when to stop.” If it weren't for the sake of her deceased parents, Alexander wouldn't have shown her any mercy.

Initially, he assumed Isabella would resist the divorce vehemently, even to the point of attempting suicide. However, unexpectedly, she tremblingly picked up the pen.

Upon seeing that, Alexander breathed a small sigh of relief. He thought Isabella had realized that her actions at that time had crossed the line, so she ceased to resist. Finally, a divorce at last—

“Woohoo! Finally, I can get a divorce!” Isabella's voice suddenly rang in his mind.

Alexander was confused. Is this... Isabella's voice?

Alexander had almost never heard Isabella's voice brimming with such joy and excitement before. For a moment, he couldn't be sure, so he looked up. However, all he saw was Isabella's fierce expression as she was ready to put pen to paper.

He couldn't tell if that expression was one of anger or of joy. Wait, she didn't say anything.

“Fantastic! Two hundred million! Imagine how many houses I could buy and how many innocent-looking young men I could have. My dear ex-husband really is something! He's so generous!” Isabella's voice rang out again, but not through the air.

A twitch flickered through Alexander's elegant and deep-set eyes.

He was certain that Isabella hadn't spoken, yet he had indeed heard Isabella's voice.

What's going on? Alexander was always prudent and composed. He glanced at Hannah Gates, his secretary.

At that moment, Hannah was intently staring at the divorce agreement in Isabella's hand.

Upon noticing his gaze, Hannah immediately conveyed an expression of "sympathy" as if lamenting the path the couple had taken to reach that point.

Alexander wasn't interested in thinking further about Hannah's unusual demeanor. The important point was that Hannah couldn't hear the voice in his head!

“Ms. Jeannet, you've really caused Mr. Alexander a lot of trouble this time. I hope you can start anew after you leave and avoid...”

Hannah frowned, advising earnestly. Yet, in her heart, she was mentally counting down, anticipating the inevitable uproar from Isabella.

After all, Isabella would explode at the slightest provocation. Once she started making a fuss, there was a chance Alexander might not give her generous compensation, forcing her to leave the marriage with nothing.

Hannah felt that Isabella didn't deserve any preferential treatment from a good man like Alexander.

However, Isabella merely glanced up at her, then, as if in a rush to reincarnate, quickly scribbled her signature.

“I'm annoyed, having been made to take the blame. However, considering the divorce is smooth and the fact that I managed to receive such generous compensation, I suppose I'll let the culprit off the hook.” Once again, Isabella's voice rang inside Alexander's mind.

When Alexander accepted the divorce agreement that Isabella flung toward him, his movements momentarily stiffened. A storm seemed to sweep across the depths of his profound eyes. What? She took the blame? She's not the culprit?

Before Alexander could recover from the shock of hearing that, he was hit by a new piece of information.

It turned out it wasn't because Isabella was dissatisfied with his indifference toward her that she intentionally stirred up trouble to catch his attention, which ended up causing a major disaster.

Everyone saw that she was the only one who entered the CEO's office during that period.

Some people had also managed to photograph her in a private meeting with the vice president of a rival company.

One could say the evidence was irrefutable.

Initially, she refused to admit it during their standoff, making a fuss and acting hysterically. In the end, she was so infuriated that she roared, “Since you don't trust me, then assume it was me! What can you possibly do to me?”

He thought that Isabella was losing her temper out of embarrassment and being caught red-handed.

Looking back, it seemed she was acting recklessly in despair.

“Mr. Alexander, it's time to sign,” Hannah said, a hint of urgency creeping into her usually calm and composed voice as she watched Alexander hesitate, not reaching for the pen.

Upon hearing that, Alexander suddenly felt that Hannah seemed to be overstepping her boundaries.

Recalling what Isabella's voice said about the culprit earlier, a hint of resentment inevitably formed in his heart.

Hannah was his university classmate. They had known each other for many years and understood each other thoroughly. He trusted her immensely. Yet, she betrayed the company by doing such a thing.

At that moment, Hannah had already handed over the pen with growing impatience.

She knew that although Alexander appeared to be cold and aloof, he was actually very responsible. He was particularly protective of his family and had a soft heart. Otherwise, he wouldn't have been entangled with Isabella for so long.

In the past, the couple's near-divorce experiences had always been averted due to Isabella's tearful pleas, tantrums, and threats of suicide. At that time, Hannah had finally managed to get Isabella to sign the divorce papers. Thus, Hannah did not want issues to arise on Alexander's side.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk, someone's getting impatient. I bet Ms. Gates is feeling uneasy, afraid all her previous efforts would go to waste,” Isabella's voice appeared in Alexander's mind again.

The look in Alexander's eyes shifted.

With a twist of his wrist, he pressed the black pen on the table with his slender hand.

That move left both Isabella and Hannah momentarily taken aback.

Alexander, with his dark eyes, was staring at Isabella, who couldn't withdraw her gossipy expression in time. “I'm asking you one last time. Were you really the one behind this?”

He was always cautious. If what he heard in his mind were indeed true, it would not only mean he had wrongly accused someone but could also leave an immeasurable risk to the company. Therefore, he had to verify it.

Hannah's face turned uneasy in an instant, yet she didn't panic. After all, Isabella couldn't prove her innocence.

Isabella felt somewhat uneasy under Alexander's intensely oppressive gaze.

Once more, Isabella's voice spoke in his mind. “What does he mean by that? Is he asking such a question at this moment because he doesn't want to give me those two hundred million anymore? He can't possibly be having second thoughts now! Can't he just sign the papers first before asking anything?”

A knot formed in Alexander's heart as he stared intently at Isabella as if he was desperate for an answer.

Isabella's eyes darted around in agitation, unable to resist the urge to grumble in her mind, which was heard by Alexander. “Of course, I didn't do it. It's not my fault everyone else is blind! Ms. Gates clearly went in and out of the office after my visit, but the staff outside the CEO's office conveniently overlooked that fact. When asked about any suspicious individuals, they didn't even check the surveillance footage. They immediately pointed fingers at me as if I was guilty. Classic bias at work.”

Suddenly, Alexander was taken aback! Isabella wasn't the only one who went into my office back then? At that time, eyewitness accounts and physical evidence directly implicated Isabella. I suppose that's why no one else checked the surveillance footage. Subconsciously, I've also always thought that Isabella was the type to pull such underhanded tricks, which is why I didn't—

Just as he was about to speak, he heard Isabella suddenly say in a cold voice, “I have nothing to say. Just sign it already.”

The expression on Alexander's face gradually turned cold. He couldn't understand why, despite knowing the truth, Isabella chose to remain silent. Is she afraid I won't believe her words?

With those thoughts in mind, Alexander abruptly stood up.

Hannah, standing off to the side, looked at Alexander in surprise. All it took was one glance from Alexander to stun her.

The scrutinizing gaze made Hannah shudder involuntarily.

Before Hannah could react, Alexander had already taken long strides and walked out.

He passed by Isabella, who was oblivious to the situation, and commanded in a deep voice, “Follow me!”

“What's going on?” Isabella was completely baffled.

Alexander opened the door and addressed the bustling assistants outside. “Retrieve the surveillance footage from the evening of the eleventh! Mrs. Quirk is unwilling to submit, so let her see for herself if she was the only one who went in and out that night!”

Hannah, who was closely followed behind, paled instantly upon hearing that. “Mr. Alexander!”

Isabella was confused. What? When did I say that? I was clearly willing to go along with this!

Chapter 2 They Are Blind

The employees of Quirk Group had long harbored resentment toward Isabella's antics, particularly those in the CEO's office.

From their perspective, the request to recheck the surveillance footage was basically indicating that they accused her.

They had all seen Isabella entering the office with their own eyes. Otherwise, no one would've accused her of the crime.

Still, at Alexander's command, the surveillance footage quickly appeared on the big screen.

The footage was fast-forwarded, and on the screen, Isabella clearly entered and stayed for half an hour. It seemed as if she left looking gloomy because she didn't get to meet a certain someone.

Everyone present couldn't help but scoff inwardly, thinking Isabella was stubborn and unwilling to listen until she faced a dead end. They were curious to see how she would keep up her stubborn act.

Only Hannah was breaking out in a light sweat.

Eventually, her figure appeared on the surveillance footage.

Hannah's pupils contracted slightly as she cautiously stole a glance at Alexander.

When that scene came up, some of those who rolled their eyes at Isabella were taken aback, while others remained completely unfazed.

At that moment, the footage paused.

A layer of frost seemed to have settled on Alexander's face. I can't believe it's true!

Alexander cast a cold, questioning glance at those who had once solemnly sworn that only Isabella had been in and out of his office. “Only Mrs. Quirk entered my office, you say?”

However, those people hadn't yet reacted.

The senior assistant spoke up without hesitation. “Mr. Alexander, I don't see an issue. Mrs. Quirk was the only one who went in...”

The others also nodded in agreement.

“They're truly blind.” Listening to Isabella's complaints in his mind, Alexander scowled.

Suddenly, a male voice chimed in, “Technically, there were two people who came and went. One was Mrs. Quirk, and the other was Ms. Gates.”

“Surprisingly, there's one who isn't blind!” Another of Isabella's thoughts entered Alexander's mind.

Everyone turned toward the voice and saw a young man standing at the back. He was a new assistant who had recently been promoted.

Alexander had an excellent memory. He remembered that when Isabella was being accused, that man was out on an errand and was not present.

At that point, it seemed like everyone else had finally caught on. However, upon further reflection, they found the whole situation rather amusing.

“What are you blabbering about? Ms. Gates has always been entering and leaving the office frequently.”

“You've just arrived, so you might not understand yet, but Ms. Gates is Mr. Alexander's confidant!”

“Are you suspecting that Ms. Gates betrayed the company?”

The exaggeration in the others' tone made it seem as though what the young man was saying was utterly preposterous.

Suddenly, Alexander let out a cold huff, and the scene instantly fell silent.

Isabella couldn't help but want to laugh as her thoughts were broadcasted into Alexander's mind. “If they knew the truth, their reactions would surely be entertaining.”

Isabella curiously looked at Hannah, a woman whom everyone unquestioningly trusted.

Hannah sported a sleek high ponytail. Her slightly curled hair strands seemed meticulously styled to embody a sense of effortless chic. She wore a professional dress that perfectly accentuated her figure. Although there was only light makeup on her countenance, her face was so exquisitely flawless that one couldn't spot a single imperfection.

Yet, at that moment, her expression was incredibly unnatural.

“I can't blame them, honestly. After all, their attitude toward Ms. Gates and me is entirely modeled after Alexander's.” Isabella's inner voice transmitted directly into Alexander's mind.

A knot formed in Alexander's heart as he thought, Yes, it's my fault! “What do you have to say for yourself, Ms. Gates?”

“Mr. Alexander, are you suspecting me?” Hannah asked, her voice filled with disbelief. Even though she was feeling guilty, she quickly regained her composure. “Yes, I did go in, but have you forgotten, Mr. Alexander? Every night, I would visit your office to prepare for your meetings the following day.”

“That's why she chose to do it when I was alone in the room earlier. It was much more convenient for her to make her move. It seems like she has prepared this for a long time. Brilliant! Although, after listening to them talk, it seems they all have to work overtime in the evening. I never thought Alexander was such an oppressive employer, exploiting his employees like this. After our divorce, I should gift him a copy of the labor law!” Isabella's words in Alexander's mind tempted him to roll his eyes a little.

I can't believe she's focusing on that right now! Her innocence is at stake here! Also, I pay our employees triple their salary for overtime! Alexander's train of thought was almost derailed by Isabella's sarcastic comment, prompting him to regain his composure. “Anyone who has visited my office during that period should be investigated, no exceptions!”

Hannah immediately revealed a look of hurt. She genuinely hadn't anticipated that Alexander would suddenly treat her impartially, especially when Isabella had already confessed!

In her mind, her position in Alexander's heart was not the same as Isabella's in any way. After all, she had been by his side for ten years, flawlessly handling matters big and small.

The other assistants also showed signs of discontent, probably thinking that Alexander was overly strict.

There was no reason for them to assume Hannah was the culprit when the other suspect was Isabella.

Hannah was Alexander's confidant, so they didn't expect him to treat her that way.

Moreover, even though it seemed like Alexander hadn't noticed a certain something, they all did.

In reality, Hannah had always harbored a silent crush on Alexander. It was obvious to everyone that she was completely devoted to Alexander. Even though she could have challenged Isabella, she never stood up against the latter despite being bullied by her. Thus, no one believed Hannah could've betrayed Quirk Group.

Just as the atmosphere was becoming somewhat tense, a scoff echoed from the entrance.

Isabella looked over with curiosity.

A few intimidating individuals walked in.

The assistants in the CEO's office all respectfully stepped aside, making room.

The leader, a bald older man, was Hector Tanner, a board member.

The one who scoffed earlier was a young blond lad who emerged from behind Hector.

He was Joseph Tanner, Hector's son.

At first glance, he seemed to be a frivolous, silver-spooned kid, just idling his days away at the company.

At that moment, Joseph walked straight up to Hannah, wearing an unpleasant expression toward Alexander. “Alexander, have you lost your mind? You were perfectly clear in the board meeting that you'll divorce this disaster, but what are you doing now? There's nothing else suspicious enough regarding the matter that is worth your effort to investigate the surveillance footage. What's even more absurd is what I just heard. To think you suspect your loyal secretary, Ms. Gates! You must have lost your mind subjecting her to an investigation too!”

Hector feigned a disapproving click of his tongue at Joseph. “Stop it! You can't speak to Mr. Alexander like that. His meticulousness in handling affairs is a virtue. It doesn't necessarily mean he suspects Ms. Gates. I bet it's probably because Mrs. Quirk refused to admit her guilt that he's doing this.”

Joseph immediately shot Isabella a fierce glare. “To think, even at a time like this, you're still trying to drag others down with you. It's simply...”

Before Joseph could utter a word of insult, Alexander stepped forward. His expression was stern as he positioned himself protectively in front of Isabella, preparing to speak.

“Where on earth did someone steal a sewer cover to let this sorry man out?” Suddenly, Isabella's thoughts struck Alexander again, causing his words to stuck at his throat.

Her voice in his mind continued, “Joseph, is it? How dare you stand up to the corporate bigwig! I want to see what gives you such audacity!”

Alexander was dumbfounded by how uncouth she sounded.

“Oh, I see. Hector held the highest position on the board of directors and seemed to be at odds with Alexander. If it weren't for the fact that Joseph was utterly useless and Alexander was exceptionally capable, Hector would have been keen to promote his own son to take over when David retired. No wonder Joseph seemed to struggle with his place in front of Alexander.” Isabella's thoughts shocked Alexander to the core.

Isabella clearly didn't understand the relationship in the company before, yet now she... Not only that, she seemed to have just understood it. Moreover, there was no way she could have known that Hannah had been in and out of the office after her... There's something up with her! Alexander was thinking about that when he heard Isabella screaming in his head.

Startled by Isabella's sudden shouting, Alexander was left wondering, What has she seen now?

Meanwhile, he half-heartedly listened to Joseph defending Hannah.

“No wonder Joseph's targeting me and protecting Ms. Gates. He's actually her simp! This is hilarious! I didn't expect him to be such a simp to her!” Isabella's thoughts in Alexander's mind greatly shocked him.

He didn't expect Joseph to be a simp for Hannah and wondered how much of a simp the latter was.

“He would greet her every morning, afternoon, and evening. Moreover, he would remind her to bring an umbrella when it rained and to wear thicker clothing when it was cold. Yet, she never responded! Despite this, he persevered for two whole years! What determination!” Isabella's thoughts kept streaming into Alexander's head.

In response, Alexander continued to react as though she was talking to him in his mind. If only he applies this much determination to his work...

“One time, he learned Ms. Gates liked a certain something from her offhand remark. After he scoured all of Bricaes to find it, he ended up with a fever and collapsed. When Ms. Gates received the gift, all she said was he should drink more hot water. It was enough to make him cry! He has such sincere devotion!”

Alexander thought, He should've shown more devotion to his work!

“Once, he went to her apartment in the middle of the night, strumming his guitar and singing his heart out. The neighbors, disturbed by the noise, called the police. As a result, he was taken to the station for causing a public nuisance. Hannah didn't even come to bail him out and he had to figure out a way to get himself released! Afterward, he even apologized, worried that his actions might have disrupted Hannah's sleep! I can't believe he'd even thought of that. His thoughtfulness was almost terrifying!”

Alexander frowned. So, who's the one making repeated mistakes at work? Was it ultimately because the job couldn't hold his meticulous attention?

“I can't believe there's more!”

Alexander was stunned. There's more?

“After falling in love with Ms. Gates, he never sought the company of other women. He preserved his purity. However, he would look at Ms. Gates' photo late at night in the privacy of his bed and... Ew, I shouldn't think about such explicit details! I'm not that interested in other people's private affairs!”

At that point, Alexander also felt sick.

At that moment, Joseph, who was righteously preaching in front of them, was completely unaware that Isabella had already seen through his facade.

All he felt was that the way Alexander and Isabella were looking at him was becoming increasingly nuanced, laced with a hint of sympathy and exasperation.

“Hahaha! This is all because of Hector's fault!” Isabella's thoughts continued.

Alexander was confused. What does this have anything to do with Hector? Wait, what was I going to do?

His mind was in turmoil, and his attention was ultimately attracted by Isabella's voice in his head.

Even the most serious individuals couldn't resist gossip's allure.

Chapter 3 Hooked By Handsome Man

“Initially, Hector couldn't let go of his ambition to seize power, leading him to send Joseph to probe Ms. Gates, hoping to lure her away. Unexpectedly, he ended up losing his son in the process. If he knows Hannah turned into a simp, I bet he'll... Hahaha! He's now supporting his son now probably because he thinks his son is just trying to win her support. Not only did he lose his son, but he's also unintentionally helping his enemy!” Once more, Isabella's inner voice was transmitted to Alexander's head.

Hector, who was standing behind his son calmly, suddenly shuddered when he noticed Alexander's deep gaze was fixed on him.

Hector instantly felt smug as he puffed up his chest. It seems that Alexander is indeed wrong in this matter. There's no way he can exit this situation gracefully after my son's lecture! Perhaps this time, we might just be able to make Hannah on our side! Let's see who'll dare to call my son a silver-spooned wastrel in the future!

“Hey! Alexander, are you trying to humiliate Ms. Gates for this woman?” Seeing that Alexander remained unresponsive, his gaze shifting from time to time, Joseph couldn't help but express his anger. “Don't forget, Isabella is the only one who has met Mr. Russell from the rival company! We have photos and videos as proof!”

Having accidentally overindulged in gossip, Alexander quickly cleared his throat, shifting to a serious tone as he turned to look at Isabella. “Why did you meet him?”

The last time he asked Isabella, Isabella was so hysterical that she didn't give a proper response.

At that moment, even if Isabella remained uncooperative, Alexander felt that he could at least uncover the truth through other means.

Isabella blinked, feeling the situation was getting complicated. She didn't expect Alexander to be genuinely intent on investigating until the very end.

From her perspective, Alexander was indeed commendable in terms of his character. He was diligently committed to treating everyone fairly.

However, that wasn't what Isabella wanted. She desired a divorce!

Just as she was about to speak, she suddenly met Alexander's gaze. His facial features were like a perfectly proportioned sculpture, and so his appearance could rival that of any major celebrity. When he focused his attention on her, he was utterly captivating for a moment, causing her to be stunned.

Still without the two hundred million, Alexander's face appeared deceptive to her. At least it had fooled her for a moment.

At that instant, his handsome face was filled with solemnity, his entire being exuding an air of seriousness that left no room for frivolity.

The penetrating gaze that seemed to see through Isabella's heart startled her, causing her heart to tremble. As a result, she was stumped for a moment, then said, “It was a job arranged by my agent.”

After saying that, Isabella regretted her words so much that she felt like hitting the wall. Was I hooked by a handsome man? Why did I have to speak up honestly like that? This is going to cause additional problems!

Before anyone could react, Joseph scoffed, “That's a pretty clumsy explanation. Has your agent lost her mind, finding work for you from the competition?”

Quirk Group owned an entertainment company, under which there was a studio dedicated explicitly to serving Isabella. Obviously, an agent hired by Quirk Group couldn't possibly accept work from rival companies unless it was done deliberately.

Joseph didn't give Isabella another chance to speak. He directly contacted Isabella's agent, Winona Palmer.

The call was promptly answered by Winona, and she immediately responded, “What? I didn't make such arrangements! Mrs. Quirk, you can't falsely accuse me like this! I'm just an insignificant figure. I really can't bear such blame.”

Surely, a lowly agent wouldn't dare to accuse the CEO's wife falsely, which was exactly what Hannah wanted everyone to think.

Hannah grinned once she noticed no one picked up on how stiff Winona sounded.

Smugly, Joseph advised, “Next time, don't make up a lie that can be easily exposed.”

Then, he mouthed two words to Isabella silently, “You fool.”

At that point, Isabella was genuinely a bit upset.

Initially, she thought it was just an ordinary set-up and a minor figure like Winona was also implicated. To her surprise, the scheme was so large that even Winona was bribed.

Alexander had also thought about that. He was thinking about sending someone to investigate Winona when he heard Isabella's inner thoughts. “I want to see how much they paid her to set me up.”

For a moment, Alexander was speechless. Could she just see whatever information she wants to see?

“What? Is my innocence only worth a two thousand monetary gift? This can't be! This absolutely can't be! I must have missed an additional zero!”

Alexander was utterly baffled by Isabella's thoughts, his mind filled with question marks. Was it really just two thousand?

Isabella's brief sobbing traveled into his mind. “I can't believe it really is just two thousand— Huh? Wait a minute, what? So that's how it was...”

What? What is it? thought Alexander.

After waiting for what seemed like an eternity, all he heard was Isabella sighs in exasperation.

Originally, Alexander had a cool and collected demeanor, but now Isabella's thoughts were pushing him to the brink of irritation. Tell me what it is! Otherwise, how can I prove your innocence?

Fortunately, Isabella unintentionally helped him out with her thoughts. “No wonder she didn't want more money. It turns out Winona is Ms. Gates' cousin-in-law. They were essentially family, so of course they were working together. So, Ms. Gates had already laid her spy at my side a long time ago? They even pretended not to know each other before. Impressive! Very impressive!”

Alexander grumbled in his mind, Why are you praising her? Though, I must say, I'm shocked to learn the truth. To think Hannah has been making all these arrangements behind my back since the beginning!

At that moment, his subordinate was cautiously asking if it was all right to end the call with Winona. After all, everything that needed to be said had been said.

The tone in Alexander's voice shifted as he spoke into the phone. “Since the statements aren't adding up, I will arrange for a thorough investigation. If there isn't any physical evidence on you, Ms. Palmer, I'll have people meticulously scrutinize your network of connections.”

In an instant, everyone present was taken aback as they looked at Alexander.

They didn't expect him to be that stubborn.

Isabella was shocked. D*mn! How could Alexander stumble upon the truth so accurately by sheer accident?

Meanwhile, no one noticed Hannah's panic or Winona's sharp inhalation.

“What are you implying?” Joseph continued to fight for his love.

With a cool demeanor, Alexander stated, “When statements aren't matching up, even the police don't rely on a single perspective when investigating a case. I'm familiar with Isabella's simple network of connections, so it's unlikely she had any prior association with that vice president. However, I'm not sure about her agent.”

“Mr. Alexander, how could I possibly be involved with a rival company?” Winona anxiously said.

Indeed, there wasn't any relationship between her and the rival company. However, an investigation would reveal her relationship with Hannah.

Others were unaware of that relationship, which would hint at an intentional concealment. Moreover, it was entangled with the situation at hand, making it all the more complicated to explain if exposed.

Alexander said in a cold tone, “Just wait for the notification.”

After finishing, he didn't give Winona a chance to argue. He simply hung up the phone.

The very next moment, he swept a chilling gaze over Hannah.

Hannah, already in a state of panic, was suddenly taken aback and took a step back.

Immediately, Joseph stepped forward to defend her, his anger evident as he declared, “It seems you're hell-bent on protecting this woman today. I'm starting to suspect that you're planning to let Ms. Gates take the blame for her! However, it's a pity that Ms. Gates has never had any contact with people from rival companies! During those two days, she was either at the office or at home!”

Hannah also took a moment to compose herself, her heart filled with sorrow as she looked at Alexander. Yet, her tone was unwaveringly firm. “If you don't believe me, I am willing to undergo any investigation, Mr. Alexander!”

Following standard investigation procedures, it was necessary to track Hannah's recent whereabouts and examine all the electronic devices in her possession.

From what Joseph had just said, Alexander was fairly certain that Hannah had never met anyone from the rival company.

However, if Hannah dared to speak like that, it meant she was pretty confident she hadn't left any incriminating evidence behind.

Could it be that she didn't leave any trace on her electronic devices? Alexander was deep in thought, his brows furrowed.

“I was wondering why she was so confident. So this is her plan!” Isabella's voice traveled into Alexander's mind again.

Alexander perked up immediately. It seems I don't need to wonder about it anymore.

“Her arrangement is flawless.”

Alexander thought, Stop sighing and tell me!

“The email was sent on the morning of the twelfth, but even if one were to examine her computer, utilizing technology to recover all deleted records, they would find nothing.”

A sense of tension gripped Alexander's heart. How could this be possible?

“It's because she sent it with Joseph's computer. Joseph trusted her implicitly, never suspecting her in his office. Even his computer password was her birthday. Thus, even if she was suspected, nothing could be found on her computer. Even if the rival company betrays her, the only person that the investigation would point to would be Joseph.”

Alexander's expression shifted as he aimed his unkind gaze from Hannah to Joseph.

“However, she left a trace. Perhaps it's because she's too confident in her own position within the company.”

Instantly, Alexander focused intently, eager to discover what the trace might be.

In the end, Isabella chose not to pursue that line of thought any further. “Forget it. I can't reveal the secrets I know, anyway. In the end, Ms. Gates won't be affected. At most, Winona may get into a little trouble. I just want this tedious mess to end as soon as possible.”

The look in Alexander's eyes subtly shifted as he inwardly scoffed. It's a mess, all right. “Summon the technical department and have them check Ms. Gates' electronic devices.”

Chapter 4 Cover Up

Hannah hadn't anticipated Alexander to really embarrass her on the spot, and her face turned ashen. She pursed her lips, looking aggrieved and pitiful as she cast a resentful look at Alexander, seemingly accusing him of being a heartbreaker.

Joseph was absolutely livid on behalf of his beloved. “You're really going this far? It's nothing less than an insult to Ms. Gates' dignity!”

When faced with Alexander's suddenly icy demeanor and frosty gaze, Joseph couldn't help but lose his temper. He snapped, “If you can't find any evidence, you owe Ms. Gates an apology.”

Although the others didn't voice their thoughts, their expressions clearly conveyed their discontent.

This incident had already garnered the attention of everyone in the corporation, with numerous executives gathering around.

After all, a highly skilled talent like Hannah was indeed quite important to the company.

They also thought that Alexander had lost his mind. After all, everyone within their circle knew that Alexander could do without Isabella, his wife, who was nothing but trouble and of no value. However, he absolutely couldn't do without Hannah.

However, Isabella suspected that they only gathered around for the gossip.

It was pretty obvious judging from their curious, nosy gazes.

After all, one of the women involved was Alexander's wife in name, and the other was Hannah, who had been working under Alexander for some time despite his known indifference toward women.

People were probably so interested in the spectacle that they were placing bets on this battle.

Isabella, who had always been a mere spectator, never expected to become the subject of attention.

Turns out I'm the joker in this story!

With a gaze filled with resentment, Isabella could only glare fiercely at Alexander, who had his back facing her.

Alexander stood tall and straight, seemingly oblivious to Isabella's resentment, but in reality, he was annoyed by her constant nagging.

Has she always been like this?

Soon, the results of the investigation were revealed.

Without a doubt, there was absolutely no suspicion.

In a triumphant tone, Joseph asked, “Well? Alexander, are you still planning to cover up for Isabella?”

Alexander felt Isabella's gaze boring into him.

“Mr. Alexander, now do you believe me?” Hannah pleaded, her eyes brimming with tears, as if she could burst into tears any second.

Lowering his gaze, Alexander glanced briefly at his phone before raising his eyes to meet Hannah’s.

In an instant, Hannah felt an inexplicable sense of foreboding from the cold gaze he directed at her.

Everyone initially thought the matter was settled, but they were surprised to see Alexander turn to look at the big screen behind him, not even bothering to waste his breath on Hannah.

Puzzled, they followed his gaze to the screen, only to see that a different surveillance footage had suddenly replaced the previous one.

The moment the video started playing, many identified the familiar backdrop of Joseph's office entrance. Onscreen, Hannah was shown entering Joseph's office.

Everyone was confused. What an unexpected twist!

Hannah's expression was the only one that changed among everyone present. A chill ran down her spine and spread through her limbs as her pupils constricted in dread.

Pointing at the screen, Joseph snapped, “Alexander, what on earth are you up to? Why are you showing the surveillance footage of Ms. Gates delivering documents?”

Alexander paid him no mind, simply watching the video with a cold, detached gaze.

Meanwhile, the cunning Hector had mixed feelings upon seeing the time on the surveillance footage.

His face turned ashen in an instant when he saw his son exit the office and leave Hannah behind.

Before long, Hannah left, and Joseph returned cheerfully with a fruit platter in his hands, throwing a temper tantrum when he didn't see Hannah.

Everyone was utterly perplexed when they suddenly saw a screen recording of someone operating a computer pop up on the display.

Surprisingly, the desktop wallpaper of the computer was a picture of Hannah.

The onlookers shot a look at Joseph, while Hector was almost p*ssed to death.

Joseph was livid with embarrassment, stomping his foot. “Alexander, did you send someone to mess with my computer?”

Indeed, a technician had cracked Joseph's computer password, attempting to recover all the deleted email correspondence records.

Immediately after Joseph finished yelling, he noticed Hannah staggering, almost losing her balance.

Joseph, concerned, hadn't noticed the problem yet, while Hector was struggling to contain his fury.

Many people present seemed to grasp a certain possibility. The air seemed to freeze, and pin-drop silence ensued. It was so quiet that one could hear almost hear each other's heartbeats.

Until the email containing the confidential files was restored, the interface significantly zoomed in on the time it was sent.

The onlookers compared the time stamp with the one recorded in the surveillance footage.

Almost everyone could discern the truth, except for a certain someone.

Joseph stared at the screen for a moment before immediately lashing out at Alexander. “You must have lost your mind! How can you fabricate such a video to slander Ms. Gates just to cover up for Isabella?”

Before he could even finish yelling, he was silenced by a Hector, who smacked him on the back of his head.

Joseph lost his balance and fell to the ground from the impact, exclaiming, “Dad!”

“Just shut up!” After saying that, Hector quickly turned to Alexander and the other executives, explaining, “You all saw it. My son has nothing to do with this matter! He was merely used! He's a dumb*ss!”

At this point, he had no choice but to admit that his son was an utter fool.

If he didn't make it clear that Joseph had nothing to do with it, the latter could potentially be suspected of conspiring with Hannah. He'd never be able to clear his name if that happened.

“Ms. Gates, you're evil! You used my son, and even framed Mrs. Quirk! What did Mr. Alexander do to deserve such betrayal from you?” Hector exclaimed, wishing he could dig up some juicy gossip to divert everyone's attention from the matter.

Everyone's gazes fell on Hannah.

Some were shocked, some were in disbelief, while some were furious.

The assistants in the CEO's office, in particular, were quivering in anger, their eyes bloodshot. Not long ago, they had confidently vouched for Hannah, taking her side and accusing Isabella.

As the truth was revealed, they were so mortified they wished the ground would swallow them up.

Given Mr. Alexander's temperament, he'd undoubtedly fire us. Ms. Gates has doomed us all!

However, they no longer dared to utter a single word and could only try their best to make themselves as inconspicuous as possible.

At this point, Hannah's face was drained of all color, her breathing quick and shallow as she trembled.

Looking at Alexander in despair, she was still reluctant to give up. “Alexander, I didn't—”

“Ms. Palmer is your cousin's wife, isn't she? You colluded with her to frame Isabella, right?” Alexander's words were akin to the final straw that broke the camel's back.

Everyone gasped in surprise.

“How did you... Don't tell me you've known all along...” Hannah was utterly devastated.

The onlookers looked at Alexander in shock as well. After all, no one could have predicted such a twist.

Meanwhile, Isabella had been in a daze since the video was played.

Though she had seen the whole truth, she was still surprised by Alexander's perceptiveness.

It wasn't until Winona was mentioned that Isabella finally snapped out of her trance.

Does Alexander know Winona's identity all along? Is that why he suspected Ms. Gates? But how did Joseph get involved?

Hector was puzzled, too, wondering how his son ended up getting involved.

Alexander cast a glance at the stunned Isabella. I can't possibly tell them I found out from Isabella's inner thoughts, can't I?

He went on, “Let's set that aside for now. Once you're on the radar as a suspect, of course we'll have to comb through every bit of surveillance footage with your face on it. Every electronic gadget you've laid hands on will be investigated, too.”

Hannah didn't bother deleting the surveillance footage that could potentially serve as evidence. This was the flaw that Isabella pointed out.

Chapter 5 First Crush

It was such a thorough investigation. She was treated as the sole suspect, with every effort directed at finding evidence to prove she was guilty.

Hannah had always believed that even if the fact that she entered the office was disclosed, Alexander's investigation out of vigilance wouldn't be that thorough. Hence, she saw no need to tamper with the surveillance records, deeming it an unnecessary precaution.

She hadn't expected Alexander to be so merciless when dealing with matters related to her.

Defeated, Hannah went limp and collapsed on the ground.

Joseph was even more devastated than her.

“You really did this? You... Why would you?” Joseph's eyes were bloodshot as he grabbed Hannah's arm, questioning her in agitation.

Embarrassed by his son's behavior, Hector quickly pulled Joseph aside. “What else could be the reason? She's jealous and wants to take Mrs. Quirk's place.”

As if struck by a bolt from the blue, Joseph exclaimed, “You're in love with Alexander? No, that's impossible!”

Hector felt an impending headache. Just how foolish can my son be? He's completely blind to the truth, which everyone else can see.

Isabella shared Hector's sentiment.

Yeah, he really is blind. He's so into Ms. Gates, yet he has no idea Ms. Gates is in love with Alexander.

After Isabella finished saying that internally, she looked up only to see a flicker of surprise flash across Alexander's otherwise composed face.

Wait, what? Don't tell me Alexander never realized Ms. Gates had feelings for him. He's such a dense man!

Alexander, already feeling awkward from Isabella's inner thoughts, felt his cheeks burn as his expression faltered.

What is going on? I thought this was just a simple incident of an enemy bribing Ms. Gates to steal trade secrets and using Isabella as a scapegoat! Ms. Gates is in love with me? How is that possible?

“No, no! I don't have any ulterior motives!” Hannah cried out in panic, looking at Alexander anxiously. “Yes, I did all that, but it's nothing like what you think! I did all this to help Eleanor!”

In an instant, the entire place fell silent.

Eleanor was Alexander's first crush.

Alexander's expression shifted. “What did you say?”

Hannah quickly revealed, “Eleanor is coming home.”

Alexander widened his eyes, as he glanced at Isabella uneasily.

Ah, Eleanor. I know her. She's Alexander's first crush who heartlessly abandoned him years ago. They were once deemed a match made in heaven in high society.

Alexander was surprised that Isabella knew that, too.

Isabella wondered what Eleanor had to do with Hannah's actions.

Alexander turned to look at Hannah with a serious expression. She's right. What did that have to do with what she did?

Hannah, seemingly clinging to a last strand of hope, blurted out, “Eleanor and I are the best of friends. She was forced to leave you. I didn't want the two of you to miss out on a chance at love because of a misunderstanding. I know you won't divorce without a good reason, which is why I'm willing to play the villain in hopes of creating an opportunity for you and Eleanor.”

After saying that, Hannah lowered her head, feigning distress as if she was forced to do something she didn't want to.

Hannah was indeed Eleanor's best friend, and their connection drew Alexander and Hannah closer, too. Otherwise, Alexander wouldn't have been comfortable allowing her to be the secretary and trust her wholeheartedly when he initially recruited her into the corporation.

During their college years, Hannah had witnessed his love story with Eleanor, even occasionally playing matchmaker for them. Therefore, when Alexander heard everyone speculating that Hannah had feelings for him, he found it entirely implausible.

The onlookers were all taken aback by yet another twist in the story. However, only a few people actually believed it. After all, it was clear as day that Hannah was madly in love with Alexander.

However, this was the first time everyone found out Hannah was actually the best friend of Alexander's first crush.

Hannah had never said a word about that before this, and everyone could discern what she had in her mind.

Wait. There's another piece of gossip juicier than that. Mr. Alexander's first crush is coming back? And their breakup was just a misunderstanding?

Thrilled, everyone stole glances at Alexander, expecting him to press on for answers while his wife was still around.

This is exciting!

In the meantime, Isabella scoffed. Didn't have a choice? Misunderstanding? As if! This is all too fishy.

Alexander quickly changed the subject to stop Isabella from prying.

“You've caused such a great loss to the company for your own selfish desires and even got others involved. No excuse could possibly absolve you of responsibility,” Alexander declared coldly.

Isabella's attention was easily diverted by Alexander's words, a common trait among young people to lose focus. Yeah, he's right, especially since her reasons are all made up. But why did she suddenly come up with this excuse? Let me see...

Alexander was about to discuss the solution of the matter when he, too, became curious about the explanation Isabella might come up with.

Oh, I know. She'd been hinting all along that her relationship with Alexander was more than meets the eye, baiting me into causing a scene. She was plotting to slowly push me out of the picture and then win Alexander's heart. But she didn't anticipate that Eleanor would be returning and knew she couldn't compete with Alexander's first crush. So, she wanted to buy herself some time to become Alexander's wife before Eleanor's return. No wonder she was so eager to finish me off that she didn't even consider the numerous flaws in her plan. Now that she was exposed, she could only use Eleanor as an excuse, fabricating the lie that she only did this for Eleanor's sake and wishing Alexander would be lenient with her. But, if Alexander were to find out that Hannah had feelings for him and that her actions were driven by her own selfish desires, he'd show her no mercy, and she'd lose whatever opportunities she might have had. Hah! She's clearly desperate. Alexander would never fall for that.

Alexander, who almost fell for it, felt embarrassed.

He recalled past events and thought of how Hannah would drive Isabella crazy whenever the latter came to visit him. Hannah would always play the victim, intensifying Isabella's rage.

Previously, Alexander had always blamed Isabella for being too temperamental. Now, upon reflection, he was filled with guilt, and his resentment toward Hannah grew.

Not interested in finding out Hannah's motives, he simply stated in a cold voice, “Call the police.”

Hannah's head snapped up as her vision went black. She said in disbelief, “Alexander, I did it because—”

“Whatever you have to say, tell it to the police,” Alexander cut her short.

Alexander's ruthlessness made everyone's hearts skip a beat. In the end, he still chose the most severe course of action.

“Alexander Quirk!” Hannah almost went mad and tried to grab Alexander, but the latter dodged her. Pointing at Isabella, she furiously snapped, “You always gave her a way out, so why are you so harsh on me? Even if I haven't made significant contributions, I've put in a lot of effort working for you for ten years, and this is how you treat me?”

Only then did Alexander glance at her. “That's because you're not my wife.”

That single sentence from him seemed to carry underlying meanings, piercing Hannah's heart like a sharp dagger.

Hannah was dumbfounded.

Before long, the relevant individuals were escorted away by the police, and Isabella was forced to make a trip to the police station, too.

Joseph, as foolish as ever, even tried shouldering the blame for Hannah because he fell for Hannah's lie and decided to continue being her simp. In response, Hector passed out from fury.

Fortunately, the evidence was irrefutable, making it impossible for Joseph to shoulder the blame even if he wanted to.

In the end, Hannah shrieked furiously at Isabella, “Alexander will surely divorce you once Eleanor returns, so don't celebrate too early!”

That was such a villainous remark, yet Isabella was brimming with anticipation. Really? If that's the case, I hope she'll hurry up!

Chapter 1 The Killer
The train was crammed. Jojo Grant grabbed a cornbread, got some water from the pantry car, and returned to her roomette.

She couldn’t stop thinking about what the doctor told her as she ate. 'Miss, you're diagnosed with brain cancer. We can't treat it in this small town. We suggest you visit a proper hospital in Lison.'

Holding her hand, her grandma, who was almost eighty, insisted, 'Jojo, go to the Lison and find your father.'

Tears filled Jojo's eyes as she finished her cornbread. She thought, When I get to Lison later, I'll head to the hospital first and lug my stuff around before looking for Dad, who's ignored me for eighteen years.

The train rocked into a tunnel.

In the dimness, Jojo lay back and overheard clatter outside her roomette. She intuitively clutched her backpack with her few hundred bucks, thinking, Who's that? Would it be a thief?

Suddenly, the roomette's door opened, and Jojo smelled blood as a guy's hand clamped tightly over her mouth. She managed only a faint "Mmm..."

"Keep quiet if you want to stay alive." His voice was threatening as he held her tightly.

Terrified, she nodded and silently prayed. I won't make a noise. Just please don't hurt me.

Outside, the trainman's voice floated in. "Did you hear something?"

"No. It's late; let's call it a night," another replied.

The voices gradually faded.

Jojo held her breath. She'd heard of train thieves but never thought of confronting one herself. She stayed still until the guy tore open the bedsheet and probed, "Can you dress wounds?"

Jojo initially shook her head, after which she hurriedly nodded. "Yeah."

"Then, get to it," he ordered.

"Oh," she muttered apprehensively.

Dealing with such a scary situation was beyond anything she'd imagined. She couldn't see the guy's face in the dimness, just feeling his towering presence and menacing aura, which made it hard for her to even look at him.

Jojo's fear grew as she nervously tended to the guy's wound. She wondered, Could this scarred man be on the run?

Suppressing her fear, Jojo felt gradually frustrated and helpless. Dealing with cancer is tough enough, and now, I'm stuck with a possible murderer.

"Hey, I don't have much cash. Just a few hundred bucks. I'm sick. Can you—" She started to say, but the guy cut her off.

"Noisy," he snapped, silencing her.

Jojo fell silent, focusing on bandaging his wound. As she worked, her hand inadvertently brushed against his feverish chest. She offered, "Oh, you've got a fever? I got some medicine from my grandma in my bag. Let me get it for you."

"Girl, I'll be responsible for you." In a flash, the guy grasped her hand and drew her closer. Jojo was too shocked to react before he hushed her.

He quickly restrained her, wrapping them both with a blanket and using a towel to bind her flailing hands to the bedpost. Jojo tried to resist, but the guy swiftly hushed her again.

…

The sun was blazing in the following day.

As the station announcements droned on, Jojo fumed to realize that the guy from last night had not only taken advantage of her but also swiped her jade pendant.

That pendant meant everything—it was a token of her parents' love, split between her and her half-sister, Veronica Grant. Jojo pondered, The jade pendant is my ticket to gain acceptance. Would losing it mean the Grant Family would shut me out?

After freshening up, Jojo geared up to report the incident. Yet, as she neared the door, she heard a hushed chat among the trainmen. "Have you heard someone was after Mr. Lawson last night? They executed them this morning!"

"What?! The notorious Mr. Lawson?!"

"Yeah, him."

Seriously?! Executed?! Jojo almost stumbled at the news.

How could my purity link to a dead guy? If I report now, could they think I was involved somehow? she thought frantically. She grabbed her things and quickly left the train without a second thought.

Jojo settled into the guesthouse right away. Once she was sorted, she went straight to Lison Medical Center to get registered. There, she found out that seeing a specialist would set her back a hefty three hundred bucks. It made her think—robbing a bank might be easier than scraping together that kind of cash.

With only 108.5 bucks to her name, Jojo figured she'd better track down her tight-fisted father first.

Meanwhile, a sleek black Rolls-Royce was caught in traffic. Inside, the shirtless Shawn Lawson was getting patched up by his personal doctor. The injury looked pretty bad as sweat dotted his forehead as he underwent treatment. His assistant, Asher Everhart, was clearly spooked, while Shawn stayed quiet—a real tough guy, just like they said.

Asher reported, "Mr. Lawson, those folks who were after you? They're all taken care of. The one who poisoned you... it was actually the Zenith Group's heiress."

"Wipe out the Zenith Family from Lison," Shawn instructed, smirking with his eyes closed.

"Got it. Should we head back to the Lawson Estate now?" Asher asked vigilantly.

Once he was dressed, Shawn emanated power with his strong stature and serious demeanor. Later, his thoughts heavily weighed as he remembered his sick grandpa back home.

Uncle Josh ran the family business for years, but since I came back three months ago, I've taken over and dealt with any problems that came up. Sigh... but Grandpa's not doing well, and all he wants is to see me married. He's even picked my wife—a girl from a far-off village.

Before, Shawn had never really considered what he wanted in a wife. Now, he couldn't stop thinking about the girl's innocent responses from the night before. She has this subtle and elegant odor, unlike any branded perfume.

As the traffic cleared, Shawn's Rolls-Royce kept moving ahead. He momentarily made eye contact with Jojo as she hassled along the sidewalk.

When she arrived at the Grant Residence, Jojo was soaked in sweat. "I'm Thomas Grant's daughter, but I've lost my proof. If you doubt me, bring my father out to verify. I'm not bluffing."

"Come on, Mr. Grant's daughter? You're fabricating tales to get in! There's only one Miss Grant, and how could somebody like you, a country bumpkin, be her?"

The maid slammed the door. "Go away!"

Jojo felt dejected, and her stomach growled as exhaustion weighed heavily on her eyes and body. Clenching her teeth, she flagged down a scooter back to the guesthouse.

During the ride, she used her keypad phone to tell her grandma she was safe.

"Jojo, are you in Lison? Remember Rupert, the one you helped at the village two years ago? His family's here in Lison. If you've got nowhere else, find him..." Her grandma's advice brought tears to Jojo's eyes.

Still, she kept the call short to save on charges.

Back at the guesthouse, Jojo found her bed and belongings in disarray. Frustration bubbled up inside her as she muttered to herself, D*mn! Why are there so many thieves in Lison?!

Her anger urged her to confront someone. Stepping outside, two men in black uniforms and sunglasses exchanged glances and quietly mumbled, "It's her."

"Ah! Help! Robbery! Someone, please..." Jojo's cry echoed through the hallway, but the men acted swiftly. They grabbed her by the arms and legs, swiftly whisking her away. Despite her desperate pleas, no one came to her rescue.

Creak. A bodyguard opened the Rolls-Royce door and threw Jojo inside. "Mr. Lawson, the person you wanted is here."

Mr. Lawson? The unflinching tough guy?! Jojo lifted her eyes and met the intense gaze of a masked man with dark eyes fixed on her.

Chapter 2 Can You Spare Me Some Cash?

"Are you the one?" Shawn asked, eyeing Jojo skeptically.

Under his mask, he impatiently thought, This girl's dressed in rags, from head to toe. Her clothes look like they're barely worth a dime, and those shoes are practically falling apart. Her weary face screams she hasn't eaten in days. Why did Grandpa pick her?

Jojo's heart sank at his question. She reflected, The guy who assaulted me on the train, and those trainmen saying he got killed trying to off Mr. Lawson. Now Mr. Lawson's after me— does he want to finish the job?

"No! Not me!" Jojo hurriedly replied, worried Mr. Lawson might think she was some assassin.

Seeing her fear, Shawn got more annoyed. However, his guys found a train ticket in her stuff, confirming she was on the same train as the girl he met last night. Combined with the familiar scent, Shawn concluded she was indeed the same person.

Showing her the jade pendant he took from her, he asked, "Know this?"

"That's..." Jojo squinted, recognizing her father's keepsake.

That's Dad's keepsake! How'd Mr. Lawson get it? She first thought to grab it back, but then she fathomed the killer must've taken it. She couldn't risk getting tagged as a killer's accomplice—or worse, getting whacked herself.

"I have no idea and have never seen it," she quickly denied.

Shawn frowned, thinking for a second before ordering, "Asher, take her back to the Lawson Estate."

"Got it!" Asher responded, right on it.

Jojo felt a jolt at Shawn's words. I told them I didn't do it, so why are they still after me?

Bitterness seeped into her thoughts. I came to Lison hoping to get treatment for my brain cancer, and now I'm stuck here being accused of helping a killer. Why does my fate have to be so awful?

After they took her back to the Lawson Estate, Jojo was basically ignored. They kept her in a room and fed her daily.

Later that evening, the study room's light was switched on.

Shawn gripped the jade pendant tightly, running his fingers over it. He contemplated, This pendant has a warm glow and looks pretty valuable. It doesn't fit the profile of that poor girl.

Suddenly, Asher walked in and informed, "Mr. Lawson, I found the info you wanted. This jade pendant belongs to Veronica Grant, the daughter of the Grant Group." He gave Shawn an iPad showing a picture of a delicate, well-cared-for young lady.

There she was, a sophisticated girl with a familiar jade pendant around her neck.

Veronica Grant, Shawn quietly muttered.

Remembering the girl who bravely tended to his wounds despite her fear, Shawn couldn't help but grin. He turned to Asher and ordered, "Get something ready. I'm going to visit the Grant Family myself tomorrow morning."

Despite ignoring the girl's resistance and taking advantage of her innocence the previous night, Shawn couldn't shake the memory of holding her close. He felt a deep sense of responsibility as a man of honor.

Early the following day, Jojo seized her chance while everyone slept. She quietly pried open the window, going down from the second floor with a makeshift rope from the bedsheet. Her goal was to head to the Grant Residence.

💟Continue Reading💟

Chapter 1 The Killer
The train was crammed. Jojo Grant grabbed a cornbread, got some water from the pantry car, and returned to her roomette.

She couldn’t stop thinking about what the doctor told her as she ate. 'Miss, you're diagnosed with brain cancer. We can't treat it in this small town. We suggest you visit a proper hospital in Lison.'

Holding her hand, her grandma, who was almost eighty, insisted, 'Jojo, go to the Lison and find your father.'

Tears filled Jojo's eyes as she finished her cornbread. She thought, When I get to Lison later, I'll head to the hospital first and lug my stuff around before looking for Dad, who's ignored me for eighteen years.

The train rocked into a tunnel.

In the dimness, Jojo lay back and overheard clatter outside her roomette. She intuitively clutched her backpack with her few hundred bucks, thinking, Who's that? Would it be a thief?

Suddenly, the roomette's door opened, and Jojo smelled blood as a guy's hand clamped tightly over her mouth. She managed only a faint "Mmm..."

"Keep quiet if you want to stay alive." His voice was threatening as he held her tightly.

Terrified, she nodded and silently prayed. I won't make a noise. Just please don't hurt me.

Outside, the trainman's voice floated in. "Did you hear something?"

"No. It's late; let's call it a night," another replied.

The voices gradually faded.

Jojo held her breath. She'd heard of train thieves but never thought of confronting one herself. She stayed still until the guy tore open the bedsheet and probed, "Can you dress wounds?"

Jojo initially shook her head, after which she hurriedly nodded. "Yeah."

"Then, get to it," he ordered.

"Oh," she muttered apprehensively.

Dealing with such a scary situation was beyond anything she'd imagined. She couldn't see the guy's face in the dimness, just feeling his towering presence and menacing aura, which made it hard for her to even look at him.

Jojo's fear grew as she nervously tended to the guy's wound. She wondered, Could this scarred man be on the run?

Suppressing her fear, Jojo felt gradually frustrated and helpless. Dealing with cancer is tough enough, and now, I'm stuck with a possible murderer.

"Hey, I don't have much cash. Just a few hundred bucks. I'm sick. Can you—" She started to say, but the guy cut her off.

"Noisy," he snapped, silencing her.

Jojo fell silent, focusing on bandaging his wound. As she worked, her hand inadvertently brushed against his feverish chest. She offered, "Oh, you've got a fever? I got some medicine from my grandma in my bag. Let me get it for you."

"Girl, I'll be responsible for you." In a flash, the guy grasped her hand and drew her closer. Jojo was too shocked to react before he hushed her.

He quickly restrained her, wrapping them both with a blanket and using a towel to bind her flailing hands to the bedpost. Jojo tried to resist, but the guy swiftly hushed her again.

…

The sun was blazing in the following day.

As the station announcements droned on, Jojo fumed to realize that the guy from last night had not only taken advantage of her but also swiped her jade pendant.

That pendant meant everything—it was a token of her parents' love, split between her and her half-sister, Veronica Grant. Jojo pondered, The jade pendant is my ticket to gain acceptance. Would losing it mean the Grant Family would shut me out?

After freshening up, Jojo geared up to report the incident. Yet, as she neared the door, she heard a hushed chat among the trainmen. "Have you heard someone was after Mr. Lawson last night? They executed them this morning!"

"What?! The notorious Mr. Lawson?!"

"Yeah, him."

Seriously?! Executed?! Jojo almost stumbled at the news.

How could my purity link to a dead guy? If I report now, could they think I was involved somehow? she thought frantically. She grabbed her things and quickly left the train without a second thought.

Jojo settled into the guesthouse right away. Once she was sorted, she went straight to Lison Medical Center to get registered. There, she found out that seeing a specialist would set her back a hefty three hundred bucks. It made her think—robbing a bank might be easier than scraping together that kind of cash.

With only 108.5 bucks to her name, Jojo figured she'd better track down her tight-fisted father first.

Meanwhile, a sleek black Rolls-Royce was caught in traffic. Inside, the shirtless Shawn Lawson was getting patched up by his personal doctor. The injury looked pretty bad as sweat dotted his forehead as he underwent treatment. His assistant, Asher Everhart, was clearly spooked, while Shawn stayed quiet—a real tough guy, just like they said.

Asher reported, "Mr. Lawson, those folks who were after you? They're all taken care of. The one who poisoned you... it was actually the Zenith Group's heiress."

"Wipe out the Zenith Family from Lison," Shawn instructed, smirking with his eyes closed.

"Got it. Should we head back to the Lawson Estate now?" Asher asked vigilantly.

Once he was dressed, Shawn emanated power with his strong stature and serious demeanor. Later, his thoughts heavily weighed as he remembered his sick grandpa back home.

Uncle Josh ran the family business for years, but since I came back three months ago, I've taken over and dealt with any problems that came up. Sigh... but Grandpa's not doing well, and all he wants is to see me married. He's even picked my wife—a girl from a far-off village.

Before, Shawn had never really considered what he wanted in a wife. Now, he couldn't stop thinking about the girl's innocent responses from the night before. She has this subtle and elegant odor, unlike any branded perfume.

As the traffic cleared, Shawn's Rolls-Royce kept moving ahead. He momentarily made eye contact with Jojo as she hassled along the sidewalk.

When she arrived at the Grant Residence, Jojo was soaked in sweat. "I'm Thomas Grant's daughter, but I've lost my proof. If you doubt me, bring my father out to verify. I'm not bluffing."

"Come on, Mr. Grant's daughter? You're fabricating tales to get in! There's only one Miss Grant, and how could somebody like you, a country bumpkin, be her?"

The maid slammed the door. "Go away!"

Jojo felt dejected, and her stomach growled as exhaustion weighed heavily on her eyes and body. Clenching her teeth, she flagged down a scooter back to the guesthouse.

During the ride, she used her keypad phone to tell her grandma she was safe.

"Jojo, are you in Lison? Remember Rupert, the one you helped at the village two years ago? His family's here in Lison. If you've got nowhere else, find him..." Her grandma's advice brought tears to Jojo's eyes.

Still, she kept the call short to save on charges.

Back at the guesthouse, Jojo found her bed and belongings in disarray. Frustration bubbled up inside her as she muttered to herself, D*mn! Why are there so many thieves in Lison?!

Her anger urged her to confront someone. Stepping outside, two men in black uniforms and sunglasses exchanged glances and quietly mumbled, "It's her."

"Ah! Help! Robbery! Someone, please..." Jojo's cry echoed through the hallway, but the men acted swiftly. They grabbed her by the arms and legs, swiftly whisking her away. Despite her desperate pleas, no one came to her rescue.

Creak. A bodyguard opened the Rolls-Royce door and threw Jojo inside. "Mr. Lawson, the person you wanted is here."

Mr. Lawson? The unflinching tough guy?! Jojo lifted her eyes and met the intense gaze of a masked man with dark eyes fixed on her.

Chapter 2 Can You Spare Me Some Cash?

"Are you the one?" Shawn asked, eyeing Jojo skeptically.

Under his mask, he impatiently thought, This girl's dressed in rags, from head to toe. Her clothes look like they're barely worth a dime, and those shoes are practically falling apart. Her weary face screams she hasn't eaten in days. Why did Grandpa pick her?

Jojo's heart sank at his question. She reflected, The guy who assaulted me on the train, and those trainmen saying he got killed trying to off Mr. Lawson. Now Mr. Lawson's after me— does he want to finish the job?

"No! Not me!" Jojo hurriedly replied, worried Mr. Lawson might think she was some assassin.

Seeing her fear, Shawn got more annoyed. However, his guys found a train ticket in her stuff, confirming she was on the same train as the girl he met last night. Combined with the familiar scent, Shawn concluded she was indeed the same person.

Showing her the jade pendant he took from her, he asked, "Know this?"

"That's..." Jojo squinted, recognizing her father's keepsake.

That's Dad's keepsake! How'd Mr. Lawson get it? She first thought to grab it back, but then she fathomed the killer must've taken it. She couldn't risk getting tagged as a killer's accomplice—or worse, getting whacked herself.

"I have no idea and have never seen it," she quickly denied.

Shawn frowned, thinking for a second before ordering, "Asher, take her back to the Lawson Estate."

"Got it!" Asher responded, right on it.

Jojo felt a jolt at Shawn's words. I told them I didn't do it, so why are they still after me?

Bitterness seeped into her thoughts. I came to Lison hoping to get treatment for my brain cancer, and now I'm stuck here being accused of helping a killer. Why does my fate have to be so awful?

After they took her back to the Lawson Estate, Jojo was basically ignored. They kept her in a room and fed her daily.

Later that evening, the study room's light was switched on.

Shawn gripped the jade pendant tightly, running his fingers over it. He contemplated, This pendant has a warm glow and looks pretty valuable. It doesn't fit the profile of that poor girl.

Suddenly, Asher walked in and informed, "Mr. Lawson, I found the info you wanted. This jade pendant belongs to Veronica Grant, the daughter of the Grant Group." He gave Shawn an iPad showing a picture of a delicate, well-cared-for young lady.

There she was, a sophisticated girl with a familiar jade pendant around her neck.

Veronica Grant, Shawn quietly muttered.

Remembering the girl who bravely tended to his wounds despite her fear, Shawn couldn't help but grin. He turned to Asher and ordered, "Get something ready. I'm going to visit the Grant Family myself tomorrow morning."

Despite ignoring the girl's resistance and taking advantage of her innocence the previous night, Shawn couldn't shake the memory of holding her close. He felt a deep sense of responsibility as a man of honor.

Early the following day, Jojo seized her chance while everyone slept. She quietly pried open the window, going down from the second floor with a makeshift rope from the bedsheet. Her goal was to head to the Grant Residence.

💟Continue Reading💟

Chapter 1 The Killer
The train was crammed. Jojo Grant grabbed a cornbread, got some water from the pantry car, and returned to her roomette.

She couldn’t stop thinking about what the doctor told her as she ate. 'Miss, you're diagnosed with brain cancer. We can't treat it in this small town. We suggest you visit a proper hospital in Lison.'

Holding her hand, her grandma, who was almost eighty, insisted, 'Jojo, go to the Lison and find your father.'

Tears filled Jojo's eyes as she finished her cornbread. She thought, When I get to Lison later, I'll head to the hospital first and lug my stuff around before looking for Dad, who's ignored me for eighteen years.

The train rocked into a tunnel.

In the dimness, Jojo lay back and overheard clatter outside her roomette. She intuitively clutched her backpack with her few hundred bucks, thinking, Who's that? Would it be a thief?

Suddenly, the roomette's door opened, and Jojo smelled blood as a guy's hand clamped tightly over her mouth. She managed only a faint "Mmm..."

"Keep quiet if you want to stay alive." His voice was threatening as he held her tightly.

Terrified, she nodded and silently prayed. I won't make a noise. Just please don't hurt me.

Outside, the trainman's voice floated in. "Did you hear something?"

"No. It's late; let's call it a night," another replied.

The voices gradually faded.

Jojo held her breath. She'd heard of train thieves but never thought of confronting one herself. She stayed still until the guy tore open the bedsheet and probed, "Can you dress wounds?"

Jojo initially shook her head, after which she hurriedly nodded. "Yeah."

"Then, get to it," he ordered.

"Oh," she muttered apprehensively.

Dealing with such a scary situation was beyond anything she'd imagined. She couldn't see the guy's face in the dimness, just feeling his towering presence and menacing aura, which made it hard for her to even look at him.

Jojo's fear grew as she nervously tended to the guy's wound. She wondered, Could this scarred man be on the run?

Suppressing her fear, Jojo felt gradually frustrated and helpless. Dealing with cancer is tough enough, and now, I'm stuck with a possible murderer.

"Hey, I don't have much cash. Just a few hundred bucks. I'm sick. Can you—" She started to say, but the guy cut her off.

"Noisy," he snapped, silencing her.

Jojo fell silent, focusing on bandaging his wound. As she worked, her hand inadvertently brushed against his feverish chest. She offered, "Oh, you've got a fever? I got some medicine from my grandma in my bag. Let me get it for you."

"Girl, I'll be responsible for you." In a flash, the guy grasped her hand and drew her closer. Jojo was too shocked to react before he hushed her.

He quickly restrained her, wrapping them both with a blanket and using a towel to bind her flailing hands to the bedpost. Jojo tried to resist, but the guy swiftly hushed her again.

…

The sun was blazing in the following day.

As the station announcements droned on, Jojo fumed to realize that the guy from last night had not only taken advantage of her but also swiped her jade pendant.

That pendant meant everything—it was a token of her parents' love, split between her and her half-sister, Veronica Grant. Jojo pondered, The jade pendant is my ticket to gain acceptance. Would losing it mean the Grant Family would shut me out?

After freshening up, Jojo geared up to report the incident. Yet, as she neared the door, she heard a hushed chat among the trainmen. "Have you heard someone was after Mr. Lawson last night? They executed them this morning!"

"What?! The notorious Mr. Lawson?!"

"Yeah, him."

Seriously?! Executed?! Jojo almost stumbled at the news.

How could my purity link to a dead guy? If I report now, could they think I was involved somehow? she thought frantically. She grabbed her things and quickly left the train without a second thought.

Jojo settled into the guesthouse right away. Once she was sorted, she went straight to Lison Medical Center to get registered. There, she found out that seeing a specialist would set her back a hefty three hundred bucks. It made her think—robbing a bank might be easier than scraping together that kind of cash.

With only 108.5 bucks to her name, Jojo figured she'd better track down her tight-fisted father first.

Meanwhile, a sleek black Rolls-Royce was caught in traffic. Inside, the shirtless Shawn Lawson was getting patched up by his personal doctor. The injury looked pretty bad as sweat dotted his forehead as he underwent treatment. His assistant, Asher Everhart, was clearly spooked, while Shawn stayed quiet—a real tough guy, just like they said.

Asher reported, "Mr. Lawson, those folks who were after you? They're all taken care of. The one who poisoned you... it was actually the Zenith Group's heiress."

"Wipe out the Zenith Family from Lison," Shawn instructed, smirking with his eyes closed.

"Got it. Should we head back to the Lawson Estate now?" Asher asked vigilantly.

Once he was dressed, Shawn emanated power with his strong stature and serious demeanor. Later, his thoughts heavily weighed as he remembered his sick grandpa back home.

Uncle Josh ran the family business for years, but since I came back three months ago, I've taken over and dealt with any problems that came up. Sigh... but Grandpa's not doing well, and all he wants is to see me married. He's even picked my wife—a girl from a far-off village.

Before, Shawn had never really considered what he wanted in a wife. Now, he couldn't stop thinking about the girl's innocent responses from the night before. She has this subtle and elegant odor, unlike any branded perfume.

As the traffic cleared, Shawn's Rolls-Royce kept moving ahead. He momentarily made eye contact with Jojo as she hassled along the sidewalk.

When she arrived at the Grant Residence, Jojo was soaked in sweat. "I'm Thomas Grant's daughter, but I've lost my proof. If you doubt me, bring my father out to verify. I'm not bluffing."

"Come on, Mr. Grant's daughter? You're fabricating tales to get in! There's only one Miss Grant, and how could somebody like you, a country bumpkin, be her?"

The maid slammed the door. "Go away!"

Jojo felt dejected, and her stomach growled as exhaustion weighed heavily on her eyes and body. Clenching her teeth, she flagged down a scooter back to the guesthouse.

During the ride, she used her keypad phone to tell her grandma she was safe.

"Jojo, are you in Lison? Remember Rupert, the one you helped at the village two years ago? His family's here in Lison. If you've got nowhere else, find him..." Her grandma's advice brought tears to Jojo's eyes.

Still, she kept the call short to save on charges.

Back at the guesthouse, Jojo found her bed and belongings in disarray. Frustration bubbled up inside her as she muttered to herself, D*mn! Why are there so many thieves in Lison?!

Her anger urged her to confront someone. Stepping outside, two men in black uniforms and sunglasses exchanged glances and quietly mumbled, "It's her."

"Ah! Help! Robbery! Someone, please..." Jojo's cry echoed through the hallway, but the men acted swiftly. They grabbed her by the arms and legs, swiftly whisking her away. Despite her desperate pleas, no one came to her rescue.

Creak. A bodyguard opened the Rolls-Royce door and threw Jojo inside. "Mr. Lawson, the person you wanted is here."

Mr. Lawson? The unflinching tough guy?! Jojo lifted her eyes and met the intense gaze of a masked man with dark eyes fixed on her.

Chapter 2 Can You Spare Me Some Cash?

"Are you the one?" Shawn asked, eyeing Jojo skeptically.

Under his mask, he impatiently thought, This girl's dressed in rags, from head to toe. Her clothes look like they're barely worth a dime, and those shoes are practically falling apart. Her weary face screams she hasn't eaten in days. Why did Grandpa pick her?

Jojo's heart sank at his question. She reflected, The guy who assaulted me on the train, and those trainmen saying he got killed trying to off Mr. Lawson. Now Mr. Lawson's after me— does he want to finish the job?

"No! Not me!" Jojo hurriedly replied, worried Mr. Lawson might think she was some assassin.

Seeing her fear, Shawn got more annoyed. However, his guys found a train ticket in her stuff, confirming she was on the same train as the girl he met last night. Combined with the familiar scent, Shawn concluded she was indeed the same person.

Showing her the jade pendant he took from her, he asked, "Know this?"

"That's..." Jojo squinted, recognizing her father's keepsake.

That's Dad's keepsake! How'd Mr. Lawson get it? She first thought to grab it back, but then she fathomed the killer must've taken it. She couldn't risk getting tagged as a killer's accomplice—or worse, getting whacked herself.

"I have no idea and have never seen it," she quickly denied.

Shawn frowned, thinking for a second before ordering, "Asher, take her back to the Lawson Estate."

"Got it!" Asher responded, right on it.

Jojo felt a jolt at Shawn's words. I told them I didn't do it, so why are they still after me?

Bitterness seeped into her thoughts. I came to Lison hoping to get treatment for my brain cancer, and now I'm stuck here being accused of helping a killer. Why does my fate have to be so awful?

After they took her back to the Lawson Estate, Jojo was basically ignored. They kept her in a room and fed her daily.

Later that evening, the study room's light was switched on.

Shawn gripped the jade pendant tightly, running his fingers over it. He contemplated, This pendant has a warm glow and looks pretty valuable. It doesn't fit the profile of that poor girl.

Suddenly, Asher walked in and informed, "Mr. Lawson, I found the info you wanted. This jade pendant belongs to Veronica Grant, the daughter of the Grant Group." He gave Shawn an iPad showing a picture of a delicate, well-cared-for young lady.

There she was, a sophisticated girl with a familiar jade pendant around her neck.

Veronica Grant, Shawn quietly muttered.

Remembering the girl who bravely tended to his wounds despite her fear, Shawn couldn't help but grin. He turned to Asher and ordered, "Get something ready. I'm going to visit the Grant Family myself tomorrow morning."

Despite ignoring the girl's resistance and taking advantage of her innocence the previous night, Shawn couldn't shake the memory of holding her close. He felt a deep sense of responsibility as a man of honor.

Early the following day, Jojo seized her chance while everyone slept. She quietly pried open the window, going down from the second floor with a makeshift rope from the bedsheet. Her goal was to head to the Grant Residence.

💟Continue Reading💟

“I’m sorry Ella.” My physician says gently. “I’m afraid you have very few viable eggs remaining. Frankly, I normally see these numbers in women ten or fifteen years your senior.”
“What?” I murmur, not believing my ears. I’ve been trying to get pregnant for years. I’m only 30, I should have plenty of eggs left.
“In terms of fertility, you have very little time left.” She continues. “If you want to conceive, you need to do so before your next cycle begins.”
“My next cycle?” I repeat, my mouth hanging open in shock. I love kids more than anything, and though it might not be everyone’s ambition, I want nothing more than to be a mother.
I have to get home and tell my boyfriend this news, and there’s not a moment to waste.
I make it home in record time, bursting through the door and opening my mouth to call for Mike, but stopping dead in my tracks. As soon as I walk inside I see a pair of high heels and a handbag by the door – neither of which belong to me.
I cock my ears towards the bedroom, and my stomach churns when I hear the unmistakable sound of moaning, accompanied by a steady thump thump thump, as the bed collides with the wall. Worse even than realizing that Mike is clearly in there with another woman, is realizing who he’s with. I know that handbag, and I know those shoes – they belong to my best friend, Kate.
“Fuck, Ella is so stupid.” Mike laughs, “can you believe she actually expects me to have a baby with her?”
Kate snorts, “she’s delusional. I don’t know how you put up with her for so long in the first place.”
“If she wasn’t so beautiful I never would have given her the time of day.” Mike scoffs. “Thankfully daily doses of plan B kept her from ever conceiving.”
“The morning after pill?” Kate asks, “how did you manage to give it to her without her realizing?”
“I put it in her morning coffee.” Mike chortles, sounding far too proud of himself.
My vision goes completely red as everything finally falls into place. Suddenly it’s clear why I’ve never been able to get pregnant, despite having unprotected sex multiple times a week for years. It’s even clear how I could have the eggs of a 45-year-old, if my despicable partner has been secretly feeding me emergency contraceptives every day – there’s no telling what other damage that might have done to my reproductive system.
Before I can think better of it, I pull the smoke alarm on the wall, wanting to frighten and punish the pair in the bedroom so fiercely that I fear I might attack them when they emerge. Water immediately sprays down from the sprinkler system mounted to the ceiling as a shrill siren fills the air, and I hear Mike and Kate cry out in surprise.
A few moments later they come rushing out of the bedroom, stopping in their tracks when they see me looming in the doorway. Mike’s eyes go comically wide, “What are you doing home so early?” The snake has the nerve to sound affronted that I surprised him, when he’s the one who’s been sneaking around behind my back for God knows how long. He seems to realize how suspicious it looks that he and Kate are standing there in their underwear and quickly adds, “Kate came to see me so we could plan a surprise for your birthday, but then we spilled coffee all over our clothes so we had to change.”
Fire blazes in my veins, he must truly believe I’m an idiot if he expects me to buy such a feeble excuse.
It’s a testament to their horrifically low opinion of me that they buy my act, and I vow to get my revenge one way or another. I can’t believe I wasted so many years – my best years – on this scumbag. And now he may have cost me my future too. As soon as the thought enters my head, I know I can’t afford to waste another moment on Mike, I have more important things to take care of.
I make my excuses and rush across town for the second time that afternoon, running to the comforting arms of my surrogate sister, Cora. Not only did we grow up together in the orphanage, but she became an OBGYN and now works for the most exclusive sperm bank in the city. I’ve never gone to her before because I always imagined Mike and I would eventually conceive the natural way, but that clearly isn’t an option anymore.
Even if I could find a man willing to have a baby with me in time, I’m not eager to trust anyone after Mike’s betrayal. I’m going to have to do this on my own, and I know Cora can help me. I don’t have much money, but I have enough savings to pay for the insemination, especially since I basically have one shot and one shot only.
When I arrive, all my plans to lay out my situation for Cora clearly and concisely go out the window, because the moment I see my sister I fall to pieces. She hugs and kisses me until my tears subside, slowly extracting the story from me piece by piece. When she hears about Mike and Kate she swears up a storm, but that’s nothing compared to her reaction when I explain about my fertility.
“That little shit! I’ll kill him!” She fumes, studying me with a worried expression. “Ella, if your doctor was right this means you only have one chance to conceive.”
“I know.” I sniffle. “And if this is going to be my only baby, I don’t want to take any chances. I want the best donor we can find.”
“Don’t you worry about that.” Cora assures me, “We’ve got donations from actors, models, scientists – it’s only the creme de la creme here.” She glances at the door and lowers her voice. “You didn’t hear it from me, but even Dominic Sinclair sent his samples here for testing.”
“Dominic Sinclair? I repeat, “the billionaire?” I’ve seen the man around town, but we don’t exactly run in the same circles. He lives in the same neighborhood as my wealthy employer and often says hello to the children I nanny, but he’s always surrounded by bodyguards and is so intimidating I get goosebumps just thinking about him.
“Oh my god!.” Cora slaps her hand over her mouth. “I wasn’t supposed to tell you that! I don’t know what I was thinking. Apparently he’s no stranger to fertility issues himself, and he trusted us to handle his swimmers over every other lab in the country. I’ve got his sperm in the other room at this very moment.” She frets, “But Ella you can’t tell anyone, you have to promise me.”
“Of course!” I agree immediately. “I know how important confidentiality is here.”
“Thank you,” Cora breathes. “Now, I’m going to give you a dossier of our clients so you can pick a donor, and once you’ve chosen we’ll get you knocked up before you can even blink.”
It’s not an easy decision, but eventually I choose a handsome surgeon whose photo practically makes me swoon. Cora leaves the room only long enough to prepare the sample, and though she looks a bit flustered when she returns, she quickly and professionally completes the insemination, holding my hand when the procedure is finished. “It’s all take care of now, Ella.” She promises, “You can come back in ten days to see if it worked.”
Ten days. I think dazedly. Ten days to decide my entire future.
If only I’d known that by the time those ten days were up, my future would no longer belong to me – but to Dominic Sinclair himself.

Chapter 2 - Be Fired
Six days to go. I think, staring at the date circled on my calendar. Six days until I find out if my dreams are finally going to come true… or if I have to figure out an entirely different plan for my life.
I’ve thought about nothing else since Cora inseminated me last week, I’m so anxious to find out if I’m pregnant I haven’t even begun to process Mike’s betrayal.
I’m trying to keep a level head, yet I can’t help but imagine my future with this new baby. Try as I might, I catch myself daydreaming about it constantly. I even find myself humming as I get ready for work in the morning.
When I arrive at my employer’s estate in the most exclusive neighborhood in Moon Valley – which basically makes it the most exclusive neighborhood in the world, since Moon Valley is one of the most expensive cities on the planet – I’m immediately greeted by two little voices shouting my name in excitement. “Ella!”
The next thing I know, 3-year-old Millie is hugging my legs while her older brother, Jake, wraps his arms around my middle. “Good morning love puddles!” I exclaim, returning their hugs. “Are you ready for the museum?”
“Yeah!” They cheer, racing out the door without even stopping to put on coats. It takes a bit of wrangling to get them back inside and bundled up for the cold winter day, but before long we set out into the snow.
Jake races ahead of Millie and I, impatient to get to the science museum and not seeming to notice that his sister’s tiny legs simply don’t move that fast. Chuckling, I lift Millie into my arms and settle her on my hip. “Goodness, you’re getting too big for this, munchkin.”
“Nuh-uh,” Millie grins, “You’re justs too little.”
She might have a point. At five foot one, I don’t exactly have the kind of build suited to heavy lifting. I’m in great shape, but I’ve never been particularly strong. “Smarty pants.” I tease, laughing with the little girl.
When I look back towards Jake, I realize he’s stopped a few feet ahead of us. My heart skips a beat when I realize why. We’re in front of the Sinclair mansion, and its owner is currently standing in the middle of the sidewalk, his gaze searing me like a firebrand as I approach with Millie. Dominic Sinclair is just about the most handsome man I’ve ever seen, but he’s also one of the most terrifying.
With dark hair and piercing green eyes, chiseled features and a body so muscular I could swoon, it doesn’t seem fair he gets to look so good and also be so rich. If I didn’t know better I might think it was his wealth or imposing height that makes him so intimidating, after all he’s at least six foot four, which means he towers over me and everyone else around him. However it’s neither of those things, there’s simply an indefinable quality about the man that I can’t put my finger on, one which screams danger. He gives off this energy that’s so raw and animalistic one forgets there’s anyone else in the room.
Taking a steadying breath, I close the distance between us so Millie can say hello. When she greets him, Dominic drags his attention from me and offers her a smile so genuine that it tugs at my heartstrings. As I watch him talk to my two young charges, I remember what Cora told me about his infertility struggles. He clearly loves children, and I feel a wave of empathy for him. If anyone knows what it’s like to yearn for a family of their own, it’s me.
Jake is currently showing Dominic his new toy airplane, pulling the matchbox model from his pocket and demonstrating how far it can fly. With a great heave, he sends the toy gliding through the air, only to land in the middle of the street. Before any of us can say a word, Jake races after it, right into the busy road.

Click to READ more👉👉Title：Surrogate for Alpha Dom

"Sir, your ex-wife whom you divorced 3 years ago showed up at the airport, with a pair of four-year-old twins." "Lock down the airport now."
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Chapter 1 Divorce
“Lucian, I've been married to you for three years, but you've never once touched me. I'll give my blessing to you and your first crush by giving up on our marriage. Tomorrow, you're free to go after her. But for now, just make it up to me for my feelings for you all these years, please?”

With that said, Roxanne Jarvis leaned down and pressed her lips to the man before her as though she was a moth drawn to fire. Her action was both frenzied and desperate.

She knew this was a despicable move, but she had loved him for too long.

All the while, she had suffered greatly, and now, all she wanted was a little consolation.

“Roxanne, how dare you!”

Lucian Farwell clenched his jaw as his fury sprang to life. His handsome face was as black as thunder.

He wanted to push her away, but the mounting desire in his body was too overpowering. It threatened to burn away all his capacity for reason.

How dare she scheme against me?

“I'm afraid of nothing...”

A lone drop of tear slipped out of the corner of Roxanne's eye. Her kisses grew rapid as her inexperienced hands fumbled around his body hastily.

All she wanted was to own him entirely for once.

A wave of fury crashed through Lucian.

Alas, things weren't under his control.

Soon, his instincts took over. As his body burned up, he lost his rationale completely.

The next day, Roxanne woke up at dawn.

Tamping down on her discomfort, she got out of bed and put on her clothes. After that, she pulled out the divorce agreement she had prepared from the drawer and placed it on the bedside table. Before leaving, she gazed at the man in the bed.

“Lucian, I'll set you free. From today onward, we shall go on separate ways. We will have nothing to do with each other anymore,”Roxanne murmured.

She averted her gaze and turned to leave.

Her heart was full of bitterness and anguish as she stepped out of the Farwell residence.

Roxanne had loved Lucian for seven years.

She had a crush on him from her teenage years until her university days, so her biggest wish was to be his wife.

Alas, Lucian despised her the moment she married into his family.

Back then, his grandfather was critically ill and needed a joyous occasion to hopefully ward off the bad luck. As luck would have it, she was selected to be Lucian's wife.

Her greedy father and stepmother immediately agreed to the marriage.

She could still remember how delighted she was as she waited for the night of her wedding.

Yet, when Lucian showed up, he bore a disgusted expression. “Roxanne, I'll have you know that the person I want to marry is Aubree Pearson. I never wanted to marry you! Only Aubree has the right to be my wife. You're not good enough for me,”he declared.

Roxanne knew that Lucian wasn't obliged to love her.

However, she still held on to the hope that the man would warm up to her one day.

In the past three years of their marriage, she did her best to be a good and caring wife.

Every night, she'd prepare dinner so he could come home to freshly cooked meals.

No matter how late it was, she would only go to bed in peace after his return.

If he got drunk at social events, she would take care of him meticulously instead of leaving him in someone else's hands.

Whenever he got ill or hurt, she would be more worried than anyone else.

Every winter, she would switch on the heater and fill the bathtub with hot water for him. In the morning, she'd wake up earlier than usual to warm his clothes up so he wouldn't feel the cold.

Nevertheless, he never loved her, and he never would.

The day before yesterday was Roxanne's birthday, but Lucian went to the hospital to keep Aubree company.

It was then that Roxanne finally understood that her one-sided feelings would never be reciprocated.

She would never make Lucian fall for her, for his heart belonged to another woman.

Thus, Roxanne decided to give up.

Lucian only roused by ten in the morning.

The first thing he wanted to do after getting up was to choke Roxanne to her death.

Lucian was the CEO of Farwell Group, known for his acuteness. No one in the corporate world was his match. Thus, he had never fallen for someone else's trap.

Never in his wildest dreams did he expect to fall for that woman's trap!

Simmering with anger, he glanced around the room but didn't see Roxanne anywhere. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted the document on the bedside table.

“What is that?”

Lucian's brows furrowed as he picked up the document with the words “Divorce Agreement”printed in bold text on the front page.

His gaze narrowed dangerously.

First, she resorted to that despicable trick to force me to have sex with her, and now she wants a divorce. Ha! How many tricks does she have up her sleeves?

Lucian refused to believe that Roxanne wanted to divorce him for real.

Getting to his feet, he put on his clothes and strode downstairs furiously. “Did you see Roxanne?”he asked the butler, Lance.

Taken aback, Lance replied swiftly, “Mr. Farwell, Mrs. Farwell left home with her luggage before dawn.”

Hearing that, Lucian halted in his tracks in surprise.

Six years later, at VR Medical Research Institute, Yartran.

Roxanne had just stepped out of her laboratory when her assistant, Linda, told her, “Dr. Jarvis, Professor Lambert needs to talk to you. He wants to see you in his office.”

After staying up the entire night, Roxanne was feeling drowsy. However, upon hearing Linda's words, she snapped out of her daze as her mind cleared.

“Did he say anything? Don't tell me my little rascals destroyed the research results again?”

“Apparently,”came Linda's answer.

She shot Roxanne a sympathetic look.

Roxanne was an efficient and capable woman. At a young age, she became the mentee of Harvey Lambert, the best professor in the medical world. With her outstanding capabilities, she was never reprimanded for her work.

Nevertheless, that didn't stop her from being the scapegoat for her naughty sons.

Linda comforted her, “You spent three days in the laboratory, so Archie and Benny were worried about you. They spent their days bumbling around in Professor Lambert's office. I think he got a few new white strands of hair from the trouble they caused.”

Hearing that, Roxanne felt an incoming headache. She couldn't help but find the situation funny, too.

Six years ago, she left the Farwell residence and headed overseas without hesitation.

Initially, she wanted to further her studies but soon discovered she was pregnant.

Back then, she was caught in a dilemma on whether she should abort her children. When she arrived at the hospital, she changed her mind, for she couldn't bear to part with her children.

In the end, she kept her children.

Roxanne was pregnant with triplets—two boys and a girl.

During her delivery, her baby girl was born without any signs of life due to a lack of oxygen, and only the boys survived. She nicknamed her sons Archie and Benny.

The thought of her genius sons gave Roxanne utter bliss.

However, she slumped her shoulders when she recalled she was about to get reprimanded, thanks to their actions.

Chapter 2 Deserting His Wife And Children

Roxanne hurried to Harvey's office.

After pushing the door open, she spotted the little rascals inside. They were sitting on the couch in the office and swinging their legs nonchalantly.

The boys lit up at the sight of Roxanne. Scrambling off the couch, they ran toward her excitedly. “Mommy, you're finally done! I thought you'd be staying in the laboratory forever!”

“Mommy, you've worked hard! Are you tired? Sit down. I'll give you a massage.”

They led Roxanne to the couch so she could take a seat.

As Roxanne took in their concern, she suddenly felt it was worth it to get yelled at.

“Look at how obedient you are. You weren't like this when you hacked into my computer earlier!”Harvey huffed angrily behind his desk.

Archie declared, “It was all your fault, Professor Lambert! You kept asking Mommy to work overtime. Look, she's getting malnourished!”

“That's right! Mommy's an ordinary human being. How could you ask her to work day and night?”Benny chimed in as he kneaded Roxanne's shoulder.

His temper spiking, Harvey gave a bark of laughter and responded, “You're too overprotective of her! Everyone in the research institute does the same!”

With that said, he shook his head and turned to Roxanne. “How did your research go?”

Roxanne shot him a grin. “It went smoothly. I'll send the data to you later.”

She paused before asking, “Have you restored the data in your computer?”

Harvey ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “It has been an hour, but I still can't restore anything.”

Amused, Roxanne patted Benny's hand. “Benny, go restore Professor Lambert's computer. Don't be naughty. What if he loses some important data?”

Benny immediately replied, “That won't happen. I prepare a backup and various security levels every time. He won't lose a thing!'

As he said that, he trotted over to Harvey and restored the latter's computer.

The little boy's fingers typed on the keyboard furiously and produced lines of codes.

A few minutes later, the computer screen blinked and returned to normal.

Harvey took one look at his computer in admiration. He had to admit his mentee's sons were geniuses.

At a young age, Archie was already a medical genius. He was capable of differentiating thousands of herbs and showcased his talent in medicine. He also had a sharp eye for investments.

Benny, on the other hand, was interested in programming. He was now a little hacker who was very sensitive to numbers. Like his brother, he also did great in investments.

Besides, both of them were adorable, mature, and cheeky.

Thus, he couldn't bring himself to yell at them whenever they kicked up a fuss. Instead, he could only vent his frustrations on Roxanne.

Roxanne immediately offered an apology. “I'm sorry, Professor Lambert. Please don't blame the kids for their naughty acts.”

Please don't yell at me, too. I can't always be their scapegoat, can I?

Harvey chuckled at her reaction. “Don't worry. I didn't summon you here to yell at you. I have a task for you. Listen, I've been planning on setting up a research institute back in the country. It will be focusing on traditional medicine. However, I'm still busy here and can't leave for now. After careful consideration, I've decided to send you back!”

Roxanne had no idea he would say that. She froze and hesitated.

Go back home?

She never thought of going back to that place again after leaving six years ago.

After all, she didn't have a family or someone she cared about back there.

Besides, she had grown to love Yartran.

Her first reaction was to reject the offer. “Professor Lambert, I—”

Harvey interjected, “Roxanne, I know you don't want to head back, but I hope you'll consider my suggestion. You've been my student for years, so I believe you know how wide and profound traditional medicine is. There aren't enough herbs here for you to research. In Chanaea, you'll have all the herbs you want. You can use and research them freely. Most importantly, many hidden and prestigious families are in possession of ancient medical skills in Chanaea. I remember you're interested in that, right? That was why I made the suggestion for you to return to Chanaea. You have a bright future ahead of you. Besides, you're different now. No matter what happens, or who you run into, I believe you can handle everything calmly, right?”

At his words, Roxanne fell silent.

He's right. I've changed into a completely different person now. I can face all obstacles without fear. Besides, it has been six years. Perhaps that man is already married to his first crush. Why am I afraid?

With that thought in mind, Roxanne took a deep breath and nodded solemnly. “All right, then. Professor Lambert, I'll listen to you and return to Chanaea.”

Harvey beamed. “I'm glad you made up your mind quickly. Don't worry. I'll ask Linda to come with you. I'll also arrange a team to help you out there.”

“Great. Thank you, Professor Lambert!”Roxanne gave a curt nod.

As they were conversing, Archie and Benny shared a look. They could sense each other's excitement.

Mommy's finally returning to Chanaea!

In fact, the two of them had been dying to head back for ages. After all, their father was back there. They wanted to see him in person. Of course, they also wanted to teach him a lesson for deserting his wife and children.

Two days later, Roxanne and the boys landed at the international airport in Horington.

Roxanne was finally back in Chanaea after six years.

After disembarking the plane, they walked out of the hallway. Just then, Benny squeezed his legs together and tugged at the corner of Roxanne's skirt. “Mommy, I need to pee now.”

Roxanne and Archie giggled at the sight of his urgent expression. “Okay. Let's go, then.”

She reached out to ruffled Benny's hair.

At once, Benny trembled violently. “Stop it, Mommy. I'm going to pee my pants!”

With a chuckle, Roxanne led him to the restroom.

Archie then brought him into the restroom while Roxanne waited outside with their luggage. She didn't forget to send her professor a text to inform him about their arrival.

Suddenly, a familiar voice rang out.

“Idiots! How could so many of you fail to keep an eye on a little girl? What use are you if you can't even complete such a simple task?”

There was a hint of fury in the man's melodious, deep, and rich voice. It was pleasing to the ears.

Roxanne's hands, which were initially typing out a message on her phone, froze instantly.

Six years had passed since she last heard this voice, but she still found it eerily familiar.

Looking up, Roxanne spotted the tall figure some distance away.

Standing not far off was a tall man. His black suit accentuated his long legs and added a touch of elegance to his figure. Even in the crowd, he was eye-catching.

Roxanne could see his perfect side profile from her line of sight.

His tall nose and sculpted features were the envy of many. In fact, he looked so handsome that other men paled in comparison to him.

Lucian Farwell!

Roxanne's heart clenched at the sight of him.

She had no idea she'd run into him on the day of her arrival.

The feelings she had buried deep in her heart emerged temporarily, but she quickly put a lid on them.

Her gaze turned frosty.

She could finally appear calm before him.

Right then, the boys emerged from the restroom. “Mommy, we're done!”they declared cheerfully.

Roxanne snapped out of her reverie and nearly had a heart attack.

The first thought that popped up in her mind was that she needed to leave right away. I can't let Archie and Benny see him. They bear a resemblance to him. If they bump into each other, he'll definitely realize something's wrong!

Roxanne refused to get involved with him yet again.

Flustered, she urged, “You're done? Come, let's go. You don't want your godmother to wait, do you?”

Without waiting for a reply, she dragged her luggage away.

Halfway through his phone call, Lucian heard a familiar voice and turned at his shoulder.

From the corner of his eye, he spotted a familiar female figure.

Roxanne Jarvis? Is that her? She's back?

Lucian ran after her immediately, but her figure had already disappeared into the crowd.

As his gaze turned dark, Lucian was about to explode with rage.

She left the country so resolutely and even abandoned the kid. There's no way she's back!

Chapter 3 The Little Mute

Roxanne's heart lurched to her throat and remained there as she hurried out of the airport. She kept turning at her shoulder to confirm he didn't come after them.

Fortunately, his figure remained nowhere to be seen even after they exited the airport.

Roxanne could finally heave a sigh of relief.

The kids found it strange that she kept turning her head to glance behind them.

As Roxanne seemed anxious, they knew it wasn't the time to ask questions. Without a word, they allowed her to drag them out obediently.

“Roxanne! Archie! Benny!”A woman called from afar.

The three of them lifted their heads and saw a lady dressed in a suit, waving at them happily as she made their way to them.

Roxanne relaxed gradually at the sight of the woman. Flashing a smile, she said, “Madilyn, it's been so long!”

Madilyn Xander was her best friend back in university and was currently working as a doctor in her own family's hospital.

Shortly after, Madilyn came to a stop before them and flung her arms around Roxanne. “You're finally back home. I've missed you so much!”she said in a friendly manner.

Roxanne chuckled and replied, “I've missed you, too.”

They've been in touch over the years online but rarely got the chance to meet each other in real life.

After giving her a hug, Madilyn squatted down and pulled the boys into a hug. “My babies, do you miss me?”

Archie and Benny giggled adorably before answering in unison, “Of course we do! Aunt Madilyn, we even dreamed of you. You're still as pretty as ever!”

“How sweet of you!”Madilyn beamed happily after hearing their praise.

Roxanne's guard was still up. She glanced at the gate of the airport and said calmly, “Let's go. We can talk back home.”

Madilyn gave the boys a peck each on their cheeks before getting to her feet. After placing the luggage in her car truck, she ushered them into her car and sped away.

At the same time, Lucian appeared at the gate of the airport.

“Cancel my schedule overseas,”he told his assistant, Cayden Lawson.

Cayden gave a brief nod in acknowledgment. “Mr. Farwell, we've widened the search for Ms. Estella. She's young and can't go far. Don't worry.”

Ms. Estella is Mr. Farwell's darling daughter. It's more crucial to find her. His work overseas isn't as important in this situation.

Lucian's gaze turned dark as he strode toward the Maybach parked by the road.

Soon, the car drove away.

An hour later, Madilyn's car arrived in Durwest Garden. It was a residential area full of mansions.

Roxanne had asked for Madilyn's help to rent a place, and this was the house that Madilyn had gotten her.

The four of them hopped out of the car and entered the new house under Madilyn's lead.

“The surroundings seem nice. I like this place.”

Satisfied, Roxanne turned to look at Madilyn. “You're quite efficient, huh?”

Madilyn arched a brow. “I'm your neighbor. The owner of this house moved to the capital and wanted to rent this place out. I happened to stumble upon it. Whenever we're free, we can visit each other's places.”

Roxanne's lips curved as she bobbed her head in agreement.

After she unpacked their stuff briefly, it was time for dinner.

Hence, Madilyn brought them out for dinner.

She had just driven into the restaurant's parking lot and was about to park her car when a little girl ran out of a dark corner.

Madilyn slammed on the brakes before her car could hit the little girl. In shock, she stared at the little girl who had collapsed to the ground.

Roxanne's heart was racing at the near accident, too. She turned to make sure her boys were fine before opening the door to get out.

There was a young girl around five years old mere inches away from the car. She sat on the ground, clearly in a state of shock.

Roxanne felt her heart soften at the sight. She made her way to the girl carefully before asking, “Hey, are you hurt?”

The young girl had a fair complexion and looked sweet with her hair braided up. She had a tall nose, huge eyes, and delicate features. Dressed in a pink fluffy dress, she hugged an expensive doll in her arms.

Hearing Roxanne's voice, the little girl regained her composure and shook her head shyly. She didn't forget to eye Roxanne warily.

Roxanne's heart stirred as she observed the little girl silently. After confirming that the little girl was unharmed, she heaved a sigh of relief inwardly and reached out to help the little girl up.

She had just stretched her hand out when the little girl cowered back in fear.

Roxanne's hand paused midair. Flashing an assuring smile, she explained, “Don't worry. I just want to help you up.”

Glancing around, she asked doubtfully, “Where are your parents? Why are you alone?”

The young girl hugged her doll tightly and shook her head without uttering a word.

Roxanne's brows snapped together, for she had no idea how to communicate with the girl.

Madilyn and the boys soon got out of the car.

Archie and Benny shared a curious look when they noticed the little girl remaining silent the entire while.

She looks cute. Why isn't she talking? Could she be a mute?
　　
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Install the APP to search for the book title：The Abandoned Wife

Chapter 1 First Love

A heavy rain began to pour relentlessly.

At the entrance of the hospital.

Standing at the hospital entrance, Cecilia Smith clutched the pregnancy test report in her delicate, frail hand. The result was unmistakable: not pregnant.

“Three years into marriage and you're still not pregnant?”

“You're so useless. If you don't get pregnant soon, the Rainsworth family will kick you out. What will become of the Smith family then?”

Dressed to the nines and teetering on her high heels, Paula Escobar, Cecilia's mother, pointed at her, her face a mask of disappointment.

Cecilia's eyes were empty. The words she longed to speak were stuck in her heart, finally condensing into a single sentence.

“I'm sorry.”

“I don't want you to apologize. What I want is for you to have a child with Nathaniel. Do you understand?”

Cecilia's throat felt parched. She was unsure of how to respond to her.

They had been married for three years, yet her husband, Nathaniel Rainsworth, had never laid a hand on her.

How could there possibly be a child?

Upon seeing her display of helplessness, Paula felt she was nothing like herself.

“If you really can't manage, then help Nathaniel find a woman outside. He will surely remember your kindness.”

Cecilia stared in disbelief at the retreating figure of her mother, unable to comprehend what had just happened.

Her biological mother, astonishingly, had asked her to find another woman for her own husband.

A chill instantly froze her heart to its core.

As Cecilia sat in the car heading home, Paula's last words echoed in her mind, accompanied by a sudden, intermittent roaring in her ears.

She knew her illness had worsened.

At that moment, she received a text message.

The message came from Nathaniel, as consistent as ever over the past three years. It read: I won't be coming home tonight.

Throughout their three years of marriage, Nathaniel had never spent a single night at home, nor did he ever touch her.

Cecilia still remembered their wedding night three years ago.

He had said, “Since you from the Smith family dare to trick me into marriage, then be ready to face a lifetime of solitude.”

Three years ago, the Smith and Rainsworth families had formed a business alliance through marriage.

The promise had already been made, a mutual benefit shared between both parties.

However, on the day of the wedding, the Smith family unexpectedly changed their minds. They transferred all of their assets, including the several billion given to Nathaniel for marrying Cecilia, elsewhere.

A shadow crossed Cecilia's eyes, but she responded to Nathaniel's message with a simple “okay” as usual.

Without realizing it, she had crumpled the pregnancy test report in her hand into a wrinkled ball.

When she got home, she tossed it into the trash can.

Every month, at this particular time, she would feel especially drained.

She didn't make any dinner and spent a while leaning on the couch, drifting in and out of a dreamlike state.

She constantly heard a rumbling noise in her ears.

This was also a reason why Nathaniel despised her. She was hard of hearing, which, in high society, was akin to having a disability.

How could Nathaniel possibly allow her to have a child in such a state?

The wall clock emitted a dull sound.

It was five in the morning.

In another hour, Nathaniel would be back.

Only after daybreak did Cecilia realize that she had unknowingly spent the entire night asleep on the couch.

She hurriedly got up to prepare breakfast for Nathaniel, fearing even a moment's delay.

Nathaniel was meticulous in his work, with a stringent regard for time. Once, Cecilia had to attend her father's funeral and forgot to return on time to prepare his breakfast.

Afterward, he didn't send her a single message nor spoke a word to her for an entire month.

At six o'clock, Nathaniel returned punctually.

He was impeccably dressed in a suit, his tall and slender figure exuding a restrained elegance. His handsome features were striking, yet they didn't lack a certain masculine charm.

But in Cecilia's eyes, his reflection was nothing but cold and detached.

Without even looking at Cecilia, he pulled out a chair and sat down. “You don't need to make breakfast for me anymore.”

Cecilia was taken aback.

She wasn't sure if it was instinct or something else, but the words she uttered reflected a humility she herself hadn't even realized.

“Did I do something wrong?”

Nathaniel looked up, his eyes meeting Cecilia's face, which had stayed impassive for the past three years. His lips parted slightly.

“What I want is a wife, not a housekeeper.”

For three years, Cecilia was always seen wearing the same light gray attire. Even when responding to text messages, she would use the same single word, “okay.”

If it weren't for the business alliance and the deception of the Smith family, Nathaniel wouldn't have married such a woman.

She was simply not his match.

What I want is a wife, not a housekeeper.

The ringing in Cecilia's ears grew louder.

A lump formed in her throat, and yet, she uttered the word that Nathaniel disliked the most.

“Okay.”

Suddenly, Nathaniel found himself feeling particularly moody, even his favorite breakfast on the table seemed unusually bland and tasteless.

He rose to his feet, pulling the chair back in irritation, ready to leave.

To his surprise, Cecilia mustered her courage and seized his hand.

“Nathaniel, is there someone you like?”

That sudden question caused Nathaniel's eyes to darken. “What do you mean?”

Cecilia looked up at the person standing before her.

Nathaniel was not just her husband of three years, but also the man she had pursued and loved for twelve years.

Swallowing down the bitterness in her throat, Cecilia thought about Paula's words and said, “Nathaniel, if there's someone you like, you can be with—”

Before she could finish her sentence, Nathaniel had already cut her off.

“You're crazy.”

In the end, life is all about continuously letting go.

After Nathaniel left, Cecilia found herself alone on the balcony, staring blankly at the rain outside.

She had to admit that even after twelve years of adoring Nathaniel, she still didn't understand him.

The sound of the rain was sometimes clear and sometimes muffled.

A month ago, the doctor had said, “Ms. Smith, your auditory nerves and central nervous system have undergone pathological changes, which have consequently led to a further decline in your hearing.”

“Isn't there a way to treat it?”

The doctor shook his head. “Long-term sensorineural hearing loss doesn't respond well to medication. My advice would be to continue using the hearing aid for auditory rehabilitation.”

Cecilia understood what the doctor meant; there was no cure available.

She removed her hearing aid.

In Cecilia's world, everything began to settle into tranquility.

She wasn't accustomed to such a quiet world. Upon entering the living room, she turned on the television.

The volume was turned up to the maximum, and only then could a faint sound be barely heard.

The television was airing an interview with Stella Ross, the internationally acclaimed queen of love songs, upon her return to the country.

Cecilia's hand, holding the remote control, trembled.

It wasn't for any other reason, but because Stella was once Nathaniel's first love.

After many years apart, Stella was still as beautiful as ever.

She faced the camera with ease and confidence, no longer the shy and self-conscious Cinderella who once sought the Smith family's financial support.

When reporters asked Stella why she had returned, she boldly replied, “I came back to reclaim my first love.”

The remote control in Cecilia's hand hit the floor.

At the same moment, her heart sank.

The rain outside seemed to have intensified.

Cecilia was scared. She feared that Stella would steal Nathaniel away from her.

Back then, she was the cherished daughter of the Smith family, yet she still couldn't outshine Stella, who had no background at all.

Now, Stella had become an internationally famous love song singer, exuding confidence and positivity. Naturally, she was not her match.

Cecilia panicked and swiftly turned off the television, then proceeded to clean up the untouched breakfast.

When she arrived in the kitchen, she realized that Nathaniel had left his phone behind.

She picked up the phone, accidentally unlocking it, and her eyes landed on an unread text message displayed on the screen.

📚Seeing the dying Omega in the dungeon, the powerful Wolf King was enraged, vowing to make those who bullied her pay the price!🤩
Chapter 1 The Most Undesired Wolf
Anaiah's POV
My name is Anaiah Ross. I'm the most undesired wolf in the pack because when I shifted into my wolf for the first time, I ended Tomas Rivers, our Alpha's brother, who attempted to do bad things to me.
Tomas Rivers was a pedophile who used to touch me in the most inappropriate way when no one was watching. That's why I'm not sorry I ended him.

Since that day, the pack has been mistreating and bullying me. They beat, starve me and make me clean the pack house day in and day out. I tried to tell them that it was only self-defense but they didn't believe me. Tomas's wife, Leah, denied all the accusations and said that her husband was the perfect man, but I know she knows the truth.

Even my parents turned their backs on me because, after the murder, they were demoted from their Gamma status to Omegas. Omegas are considered the weakest link of the pack, others are strong, but most of them are just cleaners and help out around the pack. They have no major role to play, like fighting in wars or any important pack political business.

"Where is that woman!" Leah sneers. I roll my eyes because of everyone here, she makes my life horrible. I was supposed to be banished after I ended Tomas but my parents pleaded and asked on my behalf, saying that it was my first shift and just lost control.

I get out of my tiny room, it is very small and has almost an old walk-in closet, next to the store room on the second floor. There is a mattress and an old broken mirror. I only have a few clothes, shoes, and a collection of my favorite books.

I get out of the room, mentally preparing myself for all the insults and beating I'm to receive. I groan. Once in the main room, I see Leah standing elegantly in a long dress and heels, one hand on her hip as she taps her feet against the floor in impatience, the other hand holding a yellow fabric that she throws in my face as soon as I'm at arm's reach. I remove it from my face and throw it on the floor, annoyed.

"Um..." I trail pointing at the dress on the floor. Leah looks livid now and I didn't expect her to slap me, no, I did. She slaps me hard across my face and red splatters from my nose as I fell to the ground from the impact of her slap. She kicks me once again in the stomach and I grunt.

"I told you to hand wash it!" She yells. I cover my face with my arms as my face blows after blow. It has been like this since her husband died and I'm here to take all her dislike.

I picked myself up from the floor after Leah was tired of beating me. I go to the Omega bathroom to clean my body, the cold water hits my body and I shiver. Slowly, I clean my body and leave the bathroom, using the lotion I left there and wearing the clothes I wore earlier. I am going to get started on breakfast. The packed house has over 100 people staying here, they live in luxurious suites with their families, while others who are unmatched or without families have designer rooms.

With only a few other Omegas to help me, I prepared breakfast. There are sausages, bacon, toast, eggs, and beans, they eat a full English breakfast every morning. I start to serve when I see him, Amos, he's our future Alpha and one of the strongest wolves there is, he's a big player and a Cassanova. But I still have a small crush on him.

He mostly irritates me and bullies me like others. The last time I spilled coffee on his girlfriend Eunice, he slapped me. My wolf wanted to fight back but I knew he could end our lives in an instant.

Amos's eyes met mine and he visibly stiffened and widened his eyes. I ignore his weird behavior and continue serving breakfast. Ignoring all the snarky comments they are throwing my way. I look at my parents but they only look at me with disgust and dislike in their gaze. I swallow and inhale, walking away sadly. Tears were well in my eyes but I didn't cry. I can't be weak. I need to leave this place once I'm eighteen and start a new life for myself, so I promised myself to be strong. I will survive, I will take all the beating.

'Don't worry, our mate will love us,' beams my wolf, Chalo.

A mate is a soulmate that completes a wolf's life. Once they are in pain, it is felt by the other and my wolf has been wanting to get one since we learned what mates are, and she believes he will save us from all the pain and torture. He will love us forever and we will have a beautiful family I didn't have.

I see a few students going to school and I smile. I miss school even though all they did was prank me, but my teachers were good to me because I was a straight A student and would win most competitions. The Alpha and Luna stopped my education in my sophomore year because they said they can't waste their resources on me when all I'm good for is cleaning and cooking, plus, let's face it, I wasn't going to get into a good college.

After I was done with my chores, I decided to get some vitamin D outside as my skin was too pale due to being indoors. I smile when the sun hits my skin and my wolf purrs. I hid in the bleachers while watching the warriors of the pack train. I like to observe them while they train so that I can know some basics about defending myself.

The Dawnrise is not the strongest there is and has survived this far by maintaining a good relationship with other strong packs like the Lycans who are royalty to us. Dawnrise's worst fear is angering a stronger pack. Hence, every year, they hold a ceremony to renew their treaties where they feast and celebrate alliances that were made many years ago.

I feel a hand roughly grab my hair from behind and I fall on my back facing the sky. Eunice is standing over me, her arms crossed over her chest with a triumphant smile on her face. I scowl and try to get up, but a kick in my stomach stops me. She and her two bimbos hit me several times and she snarls.

"Don't make eye contact with my boyfriend again!"

Due to space constraints can only update here, click to see more exciting follow-up.🤩🤩

Chapter 1 First Love

A heavy rain began to pour relentlessly.

At the entrance of the hospital.

Standing at the hospital entrance, Cecilia Smith clutched the pregnancy test report in her delicate, frail hand. The result was unmistakable: not pregnant.

“Three years into marriage and you're still not pregnant?”

“You're so useless. If you don't get pregnant soon, the Rainsworth family will kick you out. What will become of the Smith family then?”

Dressed to the nines and teetering on her high heels, Paula Escobar, Cecilia's mother, pointed at her, her face a mask of disappointment.

Cecilia's eyes were empty. The words she longed to speak were stuck in her heart, finally condensing into a single sentence.

“I'm sorry.”

“I don't want you to apologize. What I want is for you to have a child with Nathaniel. Do you understand?”

Cecilia's throat felt parched. She was unsure of how to respond to her.

They had been married for three years, yet her husband, Nathaniel Rainsworth, had never laid a hand on her.

How could there possibly be a child?

Upon seeing her display of helplessness, Paula felt she was nothing like herself.

“If you really can't manage, then help Nathaniel find a woman outside. He will surely remember your kindness.”

Cecilia stared in disbelief at the retreating figure of her mother, unable to comprehend what had just happened.

Her biological mother, astonishingly, had asked her to find another woman for her own husband.

A chill instantly froze her heart to its core.

As Cecilia sat in the car heading home, Paula's last words echoed in her mind, accompanied by a sudden, intermittent roaring in her ears.

She knew her illness had worsened.

At that moment, she received a text message.

The message came from Nathaniel, as consistent as ever over the past three years. It read: I won't be coming home tonight.

Throughout their three years of marriage, Nathaniel had never spent a single night at home, nor did he ever touch her.

Cecilia still remembered their wedding night three years ago.

He had said, “Since you from the Smith family dare to trick me into marriage, then be ready to face a lifetime of solitude.”

Three years ago, the Smith and Rainsworth families had formed a business alliance through marriage.

The promise had already been made, a mutual benefit shared between both parties.

However, on the day of the wedding, the Smith family unexpectedly changed their minds. They transferred all of their assets, including the several billion given to Nathaniel for marrying Cecilia, elsewhere.

A shadow crossed Cecilia's eyes, but she responded to Nathaniel's message with a simple “okay” as usual.

Without realizing it, she had crumpled the pregnancy test report in her hand into a wrinkled ball.

When she got home, she tossed it into the trash can.

Every month, at this particular time, she would feel especially drained.

She didn't make any dinner and spent a while leaning on the couch, drifting in and out of a dreamlike state.

She constantly heard a rumbling noise in her ears.

This was also a reason why Nathaniel despised her. She was hard of hearing, which, in high society, was akin to having a disability.

How could Nathaniel possibly allow her to have a child in such a state?

The wall clock emitted a dull sound.

It was five in the morning.

In another hour, Nathaniel would be back.

Only after daybreak did Cecilia realize that she had unknowingly spent the entire night asleep on the couch.

She hurriedly got up to prepare breakfast for Nathaniel, fearing even a moment's delay.

Nathaniel was meticulous in his work, with a stringent regard for time. Once, Cecilia had to attend her father's funeral and forgot to return on time to prepare his breakfast.

Afterward, he didn't send her a single message nor spoke a word to her for an entire month.

At six o'clock, Nathaniel returned punctually.

He was impeccably dressed in a suit, his tall and slender figure exuding a restrained elegance. His handsome features were striking, yet they didn't lack a certain masculine charm.

But in Cecilia's eyes, his reflection was nothing but cold and detached.

Without even looking at Cecilia, he pulled out a chair and sat down. “You don't need to make breakfast for me anymore.”

Cecilia was taken aback.

She wasn't sure if it was instinct or something else, but the words she uttered reflected a humility she herself hadn't even realized.

“Did I do something wrong?”

Nathaniel looked up, his eyes meeting Cecilia's face, which had stayed impassive for the past three years. His lips parted slightly.

“What I want is a wife, not a housekeeper.”

For three years, Cecilia was always seen wearing the same light gray attire. Even when responding to text messages, she would use the same single word, “okay.”

If it weren't for the business alliance and the deception of the Smith family, Nathaniel wouldn't have married such a woman.

She was simply not his match.

What I want is a wife, not a housekeeper.

The ringing in Cecilia's ears grew louder.

A lump formed in her throat, and yet, she uttered the word that Nathaniel disliked the most.

“Okay.”

Suddenly, Nathaniel found himself feeling particularly moody, even his favorite breakfast on the table seemed unusually bland and tasteless.

He rose to his feet, pulling the chair back in irritation, ready to leave.

To his surprise, Cecilia mustered her courage and seized his hand.

“Nathaniel, is there someone you like?”

That sudden question caused Nathaniel's eyes to darken. “What do you mean?”

Cecilia looked up at the person standing before her.

Nathaniel was not just her husband of three years, but also the man she had pursued and loved for twelve years.

Swallowing down the bitterness in her throat, Cecilia thought about Paula's words and said, “Nathaniel, if there's someone you like, you can be with—”

Before she could finish her sentence, Nathaniel had already cut her off.

“You're crazy.”

In the end, life is all about continuously letting go.

After Nathaniel left, Cecilia found herself alone on the balcony, staring blankly at the rain outside.

She had to admit that even after twelve years of adoring Nathaniel, she still didn't understand him.

The sound of the rain was sometimes clear and sometimes muffled.

A month ago, the doctor had said, “Ms. Smith, your auditory nerves and central nervous system have undergone pathological changes, which have consequently led to a further decline in your hearing.”

“Isn't there a way to treat it?”

The doctor shook his head. “Long-term sensorineural hearing loss doesn't respond well to medication. My advice would be to continue using the hearing aid for auditory rehabilitation.”

Cecilia understood what the doctor meant; there was no cure available.

She removed her hearing aid.

In Cecilia's world, everything began to settle into tranquility.

She wasn't accustomed to such a quiet world. Upon entering the living room, she turned on the television.

The volume was turned up to the maximum, and only then could a faint sound be barely heard.

The television was airing an interview with Stella Ross, the internationally acclaimed queen of love songs, upon her return to the country.

Cecilia's hand, holding the remote control, trembled.

It wasn't for any other reason, but because Stella was once Nathaniel's first love.

After many years apart, Stella was still as beautiful as ever.

She faced the camera with ease and confidence, no longer the shy and self-conscious Cinderella who once sought the Smith family's financial support.

When reporters asked Stella why she had returned, she boldly replied, “I came back to reclaim my first love.”

The remote control in Cecilia's hand hit the floor.

At the same moment, her heart sank.

The rain outside seemed to have intensified.

Cecilia was scared. She feared that Stella would steal Nathaniel away from her.

Back then, she was the cherished daughter of the Smith family, yet she still couldn't outshine Stella, who had no background at all.

Now, Stella had become an internationally famous love song singer, exuding confidence and positivity. Naturally, she was not her match.

Cecilia panicked and swiftly turned off the television, then proceeded to clean up the untouched breakfast.

When she arrived in the kitchen, she realized that Nathaniel had left his phone behind.

She picked up the phone, accidentally unlocking it, and her eyes landed on an unread text message displayed on the screen.

Capitolo 1 Una notte di assurdità
"Anastasia, aiuto! Sono stata molestata al club!".

Il tono disperato e impotente della voce della sua migliore amica era l'unico pensiero di Anastasia Tillman mentre si precipitava al club.

Stanza 808. Anastasia guardò la targhetta con il numero sulla porta della stanza privata. Era lo stesso numero di stanza che la sua migliore amica, Hayley Seymour, le aveva inviato per messaggio. Senza pensarci due volte, varcò la porta per salvare la sua amica.

Quando la porta si aprì sotto la sua mano, fu accolta dall'oscurità. All'improvviso, una mano le afferrò con forza il polso e la trascinò nella stanza buia, seguita da un forte tonfo quando la porta si chiuse.

"Ehi, chi sei e cosa vuoi?". Anastasia gridò, con gli occhi che si muovevano intorno a lei per cercare di capire cosa la circondava.

"Mettiti comoda e ti tratterò bene". La voce profonda e roca di un uomo le parlò all'orecchio.

Un attimo dopo, Anastasia fu scaraventata senza tante cerimonie sul divano e, prima che riuscisse a rimettersi in piedi, un corpo magro e forte la bloccò a terra.

Emise un grido soffocato quando un paio di labbra che sapevano di menta piperita catturarono le sue.

L'uomo sopra di lei era bollente al tatto. Un senso di disperazione le fece venire le lacrime agli occhi mentre cercava di lottare contro l'uomo, ma alla fine non poté fare altro che subire la sua ferocia.

Un'ora dopo, Anastasia uscì dalla stanza barcollando, spettinata. Aveva appena vissuto un incubo, ma questo non la distraeva dal preoccuparsi della sicurezza della sua migliore amica.

Stava per chiamare il numero di Hayley quando vide un gruppo di uomini e donne uscire dalla porta laterale. Sotto le luci, riconobbe immediatamente le due donne del gruppo.

Una era Hayley, la sua migliore amica che aveva chiesto aiuto al telefono prima, e l'altra era la sorellastra di Anastasia, Erica Tillman. Le due ragazze camminavano fianco a fianco con le braccia unite, come se fossero le amiche più intime.

Lo shock e la rabbia colorarono i lineamenti di Anastasia quando le vide. "Fermati lì, Hayley!", esclamò a gran voce, mentre i pugni si stringevano con forza sui fianchi.

Sentendo questo, Hayley ed Erica si girarono di scatto per affrontarla. Anastasia le guardò, con il volto cinereo, e chiese ad Hayley: "Perché mi hai mentito?".

Hayley sorrise. "Non è colpa mia se sei sempre così credulona, Anastasia".

"Ti sei divertita con quel gigolò laggiù?". Chiese Erica con voce cantilenante, sorridendo perfidamente.

Solo allora Anastasia si rese conto che entrambe l'avevano incastrata. La castità che le era stata cara negli ultimi diciannove anni era ora sacrificata per il loro spregevole divertimento.

Gli occhi di Hayley si fecero gelidi e lei sbottò: "Pensavi davvero che fossi tua amica, Anastasia? Ho vissuto nella tua ombra da quando ci siamo incontrate! Ti odio e non desidero altro che rovinare quel tuo viso!".

Erica, dal canto suo, si intromise prontamente ironizzando: "Ho le prove che mi servono per dimostrare a papà che ti sei prostituita per soldi al club. Non ci vorrà molto prima che ti sbatta fuori di casa!".

" Voi due..." Anastasia era così furiosa che barcollava. Il suo corpo era a pezzi dopo il calvario che aveva vissuto e il peso collettivo del tradimento dell'amica e della crudeltà della sorella la fece quasi crollare.

"Andiamo, Hayley! Non vogliamo farci vedere con la spazzatura, vero?". Con il braccio intrecciato a quello di Hayley, Erica la condusse verso l'auto sportiva che aveva parcheggiato sul marciapiede.

Tre giorni dopo, nella residenza dei Tillman, una voce maschile bassa urlò con rabbia: "Sei diventata una escort per soldi solo perché non ti ho lasciato andare all'estero per i tuoi studi? Come posso io, Francis Tillman, essere capace di avere una figlia così sfacciata come te?".

"Papà, io non..."

"Non l'hai fatto? Ma l'hai fatto, Anastasia! Come hai potuto arrivare a tanto? Ti abbiamo fatto morire di fame o ti abbiamo privato di qualcosa? Non posso credere che tu ti sia messa a fare la ruffiana con degli sconosciuti a caso in un lurido club! Per il tuo bene, spero che tu non abbia portato qualche malattia in questa casa. Chissà cosa avremmo potuto beccarci io e mia figlia", sogghignò la donna, vestita di gioielli e abiti raffinati, da dove era seduta sul divano.

"Papà, non sono stata io. -" Anastasia cercò di giustificarsi.

Tuttavia, Francis non volle sentire un'altra parola da lei. Le lanciò un'occhiata minacciosa e sbottò: "Vedo che mi stai ancora mentendo. Esci subito da questa casa! Non sopporterò di averti sotto il mio tetto. Nessuna delle mie figlie potrebbe essere così spudorata. D'ora in poi non sarai più mia figlia!".

Nel frattempo, sul pianerottolo delle scale, Erica osservava la scena appoggiata alla ringhiera con il mento appoggiato alla mano. Tutto stava andando esattamente come aveva previsto. Nel giro di pochi minuti, Anastasia sarebbe stata cacciata di casa e avrebbe vagato come un misero cane randagio.

Al piano di sotto, in salotto, Anastasia si ammutolì quando vide lo sguardo fulminante e deluso del padre. Senza parole, si alzò dalla sedia e salì le scale per raccogliere le sue cose.

Aveva appena girato il pianerottolo quando Erica le sbarrò la strada. Con le braccia incrociate altezzosamente davanti al petto, la ragazza più giovane sogghignò: "Fuori di qui! Non rimanere qui in giro a dare scandalo. In questa casa non ci sarà mai più posto per te!".

Anastasia strinse i pugni guardando l'espressione soddisfatta di Erica.

Vedendo l'odio e la rabbia negli occhi di Anastasia, Erica si chinò in avanti. "Che c'è, vuoi darmi uno schiaffo o qualcosa del genere?". Girò la guancia verso la ragazza furiosa e disse compiaciuta: "Fai pure, allora!".

Senza trattenersi, Anastasia portò la mano sul viso di Erica, dandole un forte schiaffo.

"Ah!" Erica emise un grido stridulo. "Mi hai appena colpito! Mamma, papà... Anastasia mi ha appena colpito!". Urlò mentre si precipitava giù per le scale.

Naomi Lowell prese subito in braccio la figlia e gridò su per le scale: "Come osi colpire mia figlia, Anastasia! A che diavolo di gioco stai giocando?".

Francis guardò le impronte rosse sulla guancia di Erica e non era mai stato così deluso in vita sua. Quand'è che la mia figlia maggiore è diventata così esasperatamente ribelle?

"Papà, fa male...". Erica singhiozzò mentre si rannicchiava tra le braccia del padre, facendo respiri profondi ed esagerati come se stesse soffrendo molto.

"Vattene da qui, Anastasia!". Francis ruggì su per le scale.

Dopo aver fatto i bagagli, Anastasia prese il passaporto e scese le scale. Il suo cuore si raggelò quando vide che suo padre teneva Erica tra le braccia come se fosse qualcosa di prezioso.

Anastasia capì allora che non c'era posto per lei nel suo cuore. Francis aveva ascoltato solo la versione di Erica invece di chiedere ad Anastasia dell'orribile incidente che aveva subito ieri sera.

Da quando sua madre era morta, aveva trascorso gli anni in questa casa vivendo come un'estranea, perché suo padre aveva portato a casa la sua amante e la sua figlia illegittima per formare una nuova famiglia.

La povera madre di Anastasia non aveva mai saputo delle relazioni extraconiugali del marito, nemmeno alla sua morte.

Non tornerò mai più in questo posto.

All'interno della casa, Erica osservò Anastasia che trascinava la valigia fuori dalla porta d'ingresso e un sorriso malvagio le si arricciò sulle labbra. Finalmente mi sono liberata di quell'inutile ingombro!

…

Cinque anni dopo, bussarono alla porta di un appartamento di Dansbury.

La donna che viveva nell'appartamento stava esaminando i suoi progetti quando sentì bussare. Un po' sconcertata, si avvicinò alla porta e la aprì con disappunto. Quando vide i due uomini asiatici in giacca e cravatta, chiese in cinese: "Chi state cercando?".

"Lei è la signorina Anastasia Tillman?", chiese uno dei due uomini in inglese.

"Sono io. E lei è?" Anastasia incalzò.

"Ci è stato chiesto di cercarla. Sua madre, Amelia Chapman, ha salvato la vita al nostro giovane padrone molto tempo fa. L'anziana signora che serviamo desidera vedervi".

A questo punto si accigliò. "Chi è l'anziana signora che servite?".

""L'anziana signora Presgrave", rispose rispettoso il primo uomo.

Sentendo questo, Anastasia capì perché quegli uomini erano venuti lì. L'anziana signora Presgrave era la donna a capo del Gruppo Presgrave, il principale consorzio del paese. Anni prima, la madre di Anastasia aveva sacrificato la sua vita per salvare il nipote maggiore della vecchia signora Presgrave.

Per Anastasia era motivo di grande orgoglio essere nata da un'agente di polizia capace e coraggioso come Amelia.

"Mi dispiace, ma non intendo vederla", disse Anastasia con decisione. Aveva la sensazione che i Presgrave volessero ripagare la grande azione di Amelia, ma non aveva alcuna intenzione di accettare il loro gesto.

Proprio in quel momento, una voce infantile e curiosa si levò dall'interno dell'appartamento, chiedendo: "Mamma, chi è?".

"Nessuno", rispose frettolosamente Anastasia. Poi si voltò verso gli uomini alla porta: "Mi dispiace, ma non sono proprio in vena di ospiti in questo momento".

Con ciò, chiuse la porta.

Nel frattempo, in campagna, un uomo era seduto sul divano della villa a metà collina. "L'avete rintracciata?".

"Sì, signorino Elliot. La ragazza del club di cinque anni fa ha appena venduto il suo orologio al mercato dell'usato".

"Trovatela", disse l'uomo sul divano, con voce profonda e autorevole.

"Sì, signore!"

Capitolo 2 Il suo sapore coinvolgente

La stanza era immersa nel caldo bagliore delle luci. L'uomo che sedeva sul divano aveva lineamenti impeccabili, il suo bel viso era un'opera d'arte del paradiso. Indossava un abito finemente confezionato che accentuava la sua silhouette vigorosa. In quel momento, gli occhi di Elliot Presgrave divennero gelidi, mentre la voce d'acciaio di sua nonna risuonava nella sua mente.

Elliot, devi prendere in moglie Anastasia Tillman. Avrò solo lei e nessun'altra come nuora della famiglia Presgrave.

In questo momento, però, l'unica persona a cui Elliot pensava era la donna che aveva violentato nell'oscurità tanti anni prima. Quella fatidica notte, il suo drink era stato corretto e lo aveva reso così sbronzo che l'unica cosa che ricordava era il modo in cui la donna aveva disperatamente singhiozzato mentre implorava pietà sotto di lui.

Quando tutto era finito, si era tolto l'orologio e glielo aveva messo in mano, per poi svenire nella penombra di quella stanza.

Cinque anni dopo, lui la stava ancora cercando. Solo la settimana precedente aveva saputo che lei aveva venduto il suo orologio al mercato dell'usato, ma la notizia era arrivata troppo tardi, perché sua nonna insisteva affinché prendesse in moglie un'altra donna.

Proprio in quel momento il telefono squillò di nuovo. Prese la cornetta e rispose bruscamente: "Che c'è?".

"Signorino Elliot, abbiamo trovato la ragazza. Si chiama Hayley Seymour ed è stata lei a vendere personalmente l'orologio".

"Mandami il suo indirizzo e le farò visita", ordinò Elliot mentre un bagliore euforico gli lampeggiava negli occhi. La misteriosa ragazza di quella notte è stata finalmente individuata! Devo trovarla, a tutti i costi. Devo farmi perdonare per le cose che ho fatto quella sera.

Nel frattempo, Hayley era in una boutique per donne. Aveva rilevato la boutique da poco più di un anno, ma gli affari erano in costante declino. Lottando per pagare l'affitto, aveva cercato di trovare un modo per racimolare abbastanza soldi per tirare avanti. Alla fine decise di provare a vendere l'orologio in suo possesso e, con sua piacevole sorpresa, lo vendette per l'incredibile cifra di cinquecentomila dollari.

Tanto per cominciare, l'orologio non era suo. Cinque anni fa, il personale del club l'aveva contattata dicendole di aver recuperato un orologio dalla sala privata, invitandola quindi a ritirarlo dal reparto oggetti smarriti. Quando arrivò al club e vide che si trattava di un orologio da uomo firmato, lo rivendicò come suo senza nemmeno un secondo di esitazione.

Da allora l'orologio è rimasto nell'armadio fino a quando, la settimana precedente, si è decisa a venderlo al mercato dell'usato. Prima della vendita, non si aspettava che l'orologio valesse molto, ma questo prima che le venisse offerta la sorprendente cifra di cinquecentomila dollari.

Hayley era raggiante mentre fissava la somma di denaro che aveva sul conto e pensava felice tra sé e sé: "Credo di poter vivere comodamente almeno per un altro po'".

In quel momento, la porta della sua boutique si aprì e lei si alzò rapidamente per accogliere il cliente. "Benvenuto a..."

Si interruppe, talmente stordita da non riuscire a pronunciare il resto delle parole.

L'uomo che era entrato nella sua boutique era alto e dritto. Era bello al di là di qualsiasi immaginazione e possedeva un'innata nobiltà.

Hayley ci mise un po' a riprendersi dallo stordimento prima di inciampare nelle parole per chiedere: "C'è qualcuno che sta cercando, signore?".

Era una domanda lecita, considerando che gestiva una boutique per donne. Era impossibile che un uomo che indossava un raffinato abito fatto a mano fosse lì per curiosare tra abiti e oggetti simili. Sembrava essere alto un metro e novanta e non c'era dubbio che la sua presenza fosse dominante.

"Hayley Seymour?" Elliot chiese mentre i suoi occhi stretti si fissavano su di lei. Le scrutò il viso, cercando disperatamente di trovare tracce della donna di cinque anni prima.

"Sì, sono io. E lei è..." Non riuscì a finire le parole; la sua facoltà di parola stava andando in tilt sotto lo sguardo ardente dell'uomo.

Dopo aver ascoltato la sua risposta, l'uomo frugò in tasca e tirò fuori un orologio maschile, poi chiese con voce profonda e roboante: "Questo orologio è stato in suo possesso per tutti questi anni?".

Hayley lanciò un'occhiata all'orologio e sentì immediatamente l'impulso di ripiegarsi su se stessa. Sbattendo le palpebre per il senso di colpa, balbettò: "Sì, l'orologio è... mio".

"E lei era la donna dell'Abyss Club cinque anni fa? Quella che era nella stanza 808?". Elliot incalzò, guardando intensamente la ragazza di fronte a lui, mentre pensava con un filo di voce: "Potrebbe davvero essere la ragazza di quella notte?

Le idee nella mente di Hayley cominciarono a girare vorticosamente. La stanza 808 di cinque anni fa... Non era la stanza in cui io ed Erica avevamo incastrato Anastasia? Perché quest'uomo mi sta chiedendo di quell'incidente?

Senza soffermarsi troppo su questo punto, rispose senza mezzi termini: "Certo, ero io".

" Prenda questo orologio e non cerchi di restituirlo. Mi farò perdonare per quello che è successo quella notte", disse lui porgendole l'orologio. "Sono Elliot Presgrave. Si ricordi il mio nome, ok?".

Hayley lo guardò scioccata. Elliot Presgrave? Cioè l'erede della Presgrave Corporation, il principale consorzio? "Lei è Elliot Presgrave?", chiese, talmente sopraffatta da rischiare di svenire.

L'uomo accanto a Elliot le porse un biglietto da visita e intervenne: "Signorina Seymour, questo è il biglietto da visita del nostro giovane padrone. Può cercarlo se ha bisogno del suo aiuto in qualche modo".

Prese il biglietto con una mano tremante e, quando vide il nome sconvolgente impresso sulla carta da lettere dorata, il cuore le uscì quasi dal petto. Quindi l'uomo che è andato a letto con Anastasia cinque anni fa non era l' escort maschile che avevamo procurato per lei, ma questo bell'esemplare che si dà il caso sia l'erede della fortuna della famiglia Presgrave?

Quando la consapevolezza si fece strada, Hayley allungò la mano e afferrò il braccio di Elliot, poi costrinse le lacrime a sgorgare negli occhi mentre si agitava. "Devi assumerti le tue responsabilità, Elliot. Sai quanto sono rimasta ferita e traumatizzata dopo quella notte?". A quel punto abbassò lo sguardo e pianse lacrime di coccodrillo, singhiozzando miseramente come se fosse stata lei a essere violentata cinque anni prima.

In quel momento aveva in mente una sola cosa: entrare nei panni di Anastasia e assumere il ruolo della vittima di quella fatidica notte. Era decisa a far sì che Elliot si assumesse le sue responsabilità, in modo da trarne maggiori vantaggi. In definitiva, sperava di sposare l'uomo e diventare la signora Presgrave.

"Non si preoccupi, le prometto che mi assumerò le mie responsabilità", disse l'uomo in modo risoluto, con la sua voce roca e rassicurante.

"Signorina Seymour, il signorino Elliot ha predisposto una villetta per lei e può trasferirsi in qualsiasi momento. D'ora in poi si occuperà di tutte le sue esigenze". L'assistente personale di Elliot, Rey Osborne, glielo fece capire in modo molto gentile.

Gli occhi di Hayley si illuminarono subito. Era così estasiata che avrebbe potuto svenire. Un mondo di ricchezze e di fascino sarà presto nelle mie mani!

"Ci sono alcune cose di cui devo occuparmi, quindi vado", disse Elliot e, dopo aver lanciato una breve occhiata ad Hayley, si girò per andarsene.

Quando la porta si chiuse alle sue spalle, Hayley strinse forte l'orologio. Era così sopraffatta da questa svolta inaspettata degli eventi che avrebbe potuto piangere. "Diventerò ricca! Ricca!". Mentre festeggiava il colpo di fortuna, si ritrovò a sperare ardentemente che Anastasia fosse morta negli ultimi cinque anni, in modo da non apparire dal nulla come fosse un ostacolo.

Nella sobria auto di lusso, Elliot sedeva sul sedile posteriore con gli occhi chiusi. Hayley è davvero la donna di cinque anni prima? Perché sembra diversa? Oppure cinque anni l'hanno cambiata?

I raggi arancioni del sole al tramonto filtravano dal finestrino dell'auto e giocavano sui lineamenti scolpiti dell'uomo. Era così bello che era difficile credere che non fosse un pezzo d'arte di valore che apparteneva a un museo; non c'era nessuno che potesse riprodurre un aspetto così bello.

Era il vero erede del Gruppo Presgrave. Aveva preso le redini cinque anni fa e aveva lanciato il consorzio verso nuove vette, tanto da incoronarlo al primo posto tra le aziende più importanti del mondo.

In quella fatidica notte di cinque anni fa, aveva vissuto la sua prima e unica rovina della sua vita. Uno dei suoi rivali gli aveva corretto il bicchiere nella speranza di manipolarlo per rovinare la sua stessa reputazione. Elliot si era salvato precipitandosi nel privé, ma proprio quando l'effetto della droga era al culmine, una donna a caso era entrata di corsa e lo aveva salvato dalla sua situazione.

Da allora, il fatto di aver appena violentato e portato via l'innocenza di una ragazza gli pesava sulla coscienza.

Era sicuro che lei fosse stata casta fino a quella notte, perché quando si svegliò dopo l'atto, vide sotto le luci della stanza privata le tracce di sangue che macchiavano il divano.

Mentre pensava al disordine sparso nella stanza privata che seguiva il suo misfatto, smise di dubitare dell'identità di Hayley e della sua impressione su di lei. Devo assumermi la responsabilità di ciò che le ho fatto.

Nel frattempo, Anastasia si trovava nel suo appartamento all'estero e diceva al telefono: "Ho capito. Dammi tre giorni al massimo per tornare in patria e prepararmi per la gara".

"Mamma, torniamo indietro?". Una piccola figura si avvicinò al suo fianco. Indossava una camicia a scacchi blu e un paio di pantaloncini di jeans. I suoi lineamenti erano delicatamente scolpiti, anche se infantili. Aveva solo quattro anni o poco più, ma la grazia e l'eleganza dei suoi movimenti erano inconfondibili.

Anastasia sorrise e annuì. "Ti va di tornare con me?".

Capitolo 3 Il rifiuto del loro appoggio

"Ma certo! Verrò ovunque tu vada, mamma!", disse il piccoletto raggiante, con i suoi grandi occhi che sembravano scintillanti onici mentre si incurvavano a mezzaluna.

Anastasia non poteva fare a meno di pensare a quanto fosse bello quel bambino. Ogni volta che guardava il suo visino, provava un'ondata di conforto e gratitudine, come se fosse costantemente in soggezione per come era riuscita a mettere al mondo un piccolo così adorabile.

"Bene, allora è meglio fare i bagagli adesso. Domani pomeriggio andremo all'aeroporto".

"Va bene!" Il piccolo fece un cenno deciso, poi si precipitò in camera sua per preparare le sue cose per il viaggio.

Anastasia tirò un sospiro. Viveva all'estero da quando suo padre l'aveva cacciata di casa cinque anni prima. In realtà non era tanto che non volesse tornare a casa, quanto piuttosto che non ci fosse posto per lei.

Non l'aveva detto a suo padre nemmeno dopo aver partorito all'estero, e ora che stava tornando in patria per il suo lavoro e la sua carriera, aveva deciso di vedere il padre. In fondo era ancora suo padre.

Tre giorni dopo, era sera all'aeroporto internazionale quando Anastasia fece avanzare il carrello dei bagagli. Suo figlio era seduto sopra la grande valigia sul carrello e si guardava intorno meravigliato. Tutto ciò che riguardava la terra d'origine di Anastasia sembrava suscitare il suo interesse, e nei suoi occhi scintillanti c'era un curioso luccichio.

Anastasia era appena uscita dalla sala degli arrivi quando due uomini in giacca e cravatta le si avvicinarono, salutandola poi gentilmente: "Signorina Tillman, siamo stati mandati qui dall'anziana signora Presgrave, che ha predisposto un mezzo di trasporto per lei appena fuori dall'ingresso. Se non vi dispiace...".

Lei sbatté le palpebre e disse con molta cortesia: "Apprezzo il gesto gentile della Presgrave, ma non ho bisogno di un passaggio, grazie".

"Signorina Tillman, l'anziana signora desidera davvero vederla", disse con rispetto l'uomo di mezza età.

Anastasia sapeva che la vecchia signora Presgrave non le portava rancore, ma non aveva davvero intenzione di accettare il gentile favore della vecchia signora. "Per favore, dite alla vecchia signora Presgrave che era dovere di mia madre salvare gli altri e che non c'è bisogno di ripagare l'atto, almeno non a me". Con ciò, passò davanti ai due uomini, spingendo il carro verso l'uscita.

Uno degli uomini tirò fuori il telefono e informò doverosamente: "Signorino Elliot, la signorina Tillman ha rifiutato la nostra offerta di andarla a prendere".

All'ingresso dell'aeroporto erano parcheggiate tre Rolls-Royce nere scintillanti, con i finestrini molto oscurati che impedivano a chiunque di sbirciare all'interno. Un uomo seduto sul sedile posteriore della Rolls-Royce al centro della scorta teneva lo sguardo fisso sulle porte dell'aeroporto e vide una giovane donna che spingeva il suo carrello attraverso di esse proprio mentre lui posava il telefono.

La donna indossava una camicetta bianca e dei semplici jeans. I capelli erano stati raccolti sulla nuca, rivelando un viso delicato e grazioso. La sua pelle era di alabastro e il suo atteggiamento era piuttosto tranquillo mentre manovrava il carrello. Senza dubbio, la sua presenza tra la folla era abbagliante.

Proprio in quel momento, lo sguardo di Elliot fu catturato da qualcosa, o meglio, da qualcuno: un bambino che era saltato giù dal carrello guidato dalla donna. Sembrava avere circa quattro o cinque anni e indossava un maglione grigio con dei joggers, con i capelli folti e morbidi che gli ricadevano sulla fronte. Era giovane, ma i suoi lineamenti erano finemente scolpiti, il che lo rendeva ancora più adorabile.

In quel momento, Anastasia si avvicinò e aiutò il piccolo a raddrizzarsi i vestiti; non c'era modo di confondere lo sguardo gentile e indulgente nei suoi occhi.

Chi è il bambino? Anastasia è sposata? Se è così, non dovrò sposarla solo per soddisfare i desideri della nonna. Con questo pensiero, Elliot guardò il taxi su cui erano saliti Anastasia e il suo presunto figlio allontanarsi. Non molto tempo dopo, anche la sua squadra partì.

Avevano a malapena percorso una distanza quando il suo telefono squillò. Guardò l'ID del chiamante e salutò: "Ciao, Hayley".

"Elliot, quando vieni a trovarmi? Mi sei mancato". La voce timida di Hayley mugolò sull'altra linea.

"Sono stato un po' impegnato ultimamente, ma ci vediamo appena sono libero", rispose lui, con i bassi nella voce in evidenza.

"Promesso?" Chiese Hayley con fare civettuolo.

"Sì", rispose lui con obbligata pazienza.

Nel frattempo, nella Residenza Presgrave, un'anziana signora dai capelli d'argento era seduta sul divano a sorseggiare il suo tè quando sentì le ultime novità dei suoi sottoposti. Alzò lo sguardo sconvolto e chiese: "Cosa? Anastasia ha un figlio? È sposata?".

"Secondo le nostre indagini, il padre del bambino non si è mai fatto vivo, quindi presumiamo che abbia avuto il figlio fuori dal matrimonio".

"Oh, povera cara. Diventare una madre single in così giovane età...". Harriet Presgrave, altrimenti nota come la vecchia signora Presgrave, sospirò. Il senso di colpa la assalì pensando alla coraggiosa poliziotta che era morta dopo aver subito diciotto coltellate fatali da parte del criminale che aveva minacciato di fare del male a Elliot tanti anni prima.

Stava giusto rimuginando su questo episodio quando una figura elegante e imponente entrò nel salotto. Era Elliot, ed era tornato dall'aeroporto. "Vieni qui, Elliot", disse Harriet facendo cenno al nipote di avvicinarsi.

Elliot prese subito posto accanto al suo e cominciò a dire: "Nonna, Anastasia continuava a rifiutare la

"Ho appena scoperto che la signorina Tillman è una madre single che ha avuto un figlio fuori dal matrimonio. Devi prenderti cura di questa povera madre e di questo figlio, Elliot. È il tuo dovere".

Elliot guardò l'anziana donna senza parole, stupito dalla sua proposta. Aveva pensato che lei si sarebbe arresa, ma invece era ancora più determinata a portare a termine la faccenda.

"Nonna, non sono obbligato a sposarla. Potremmo sempre trovare un altro modo per ripagare la gentilezza di sua madre e farci perdonare", replicò con calma, sperando che la nonna si ravvedesse.

Tuttavia, non appena Harriet lo sentì, gli lanciò un'occhiata gelida e disse: "No, questo non va bene. Devi sposare Anastasia, proteggerla e prenderti cura di lei per il resto della sua vita".

Elliot si accigliò. Non pensava che da un matrimonio senza amore potesse venire qualcosa di buono, ma non poteva nemmeno rifiutare la proposta della nonna, perché era decisa a ripagare il sacrificio che la madre di Anastasia aveva fatto tanti anni prima.

"Non puoi nemmeno immaginare quante pugnalate abbia subito l'agente Amelia Chapman solo per proteggerti. La quantità di sangue... La natura raccapricciante del crimine..." Gli occhi di Harriet erano tristi mentre lo diceva. Poi alzò lo sguardo e lanciò un'occhiata severa al nipote, sottolineando: "Prendersi cura di sua figlia è il minimo che tu possa fare. Non sarai mai in grado di ripagare l'atto altruistico dell'ufficiale, anche se dovessi prenderti cura di Anastasia per l'eternità".

Elliot annuì in silenzio. "Bene, allora la prenderò in moglie".

Ma c'era un'altra donna che non poteva lasciare andare, che doveva compensare. Detto questo, non aveva ancora intenzione di parlarne con Harriet e sapeva che, anche se glielo avesse detto, non l'avrebbe dissuasa dal costringerlo a sposare Anastasia.

"Anastasia ha un figlio", disse.

La cosa gli si ritorse contro perché Harriet sembrò entusiasta della notizia. "È vero! È un bambino, probabilmente di circa tre o quattro anni. Non posso credere che qualche furfante li abbia abbandonati così. Ascoltami, Elliot: non osare snobbare quel bambino, è chiaro?".

Elliot stentava a crederci. Fissò la nonna, sconcertato, mentre pensava: "È una specie di accordo "compra uno, prendi due"?

L'Atelier di Gioielleria Bourgeois era una vecchia e rinomata azienda che era stata acquisita dal capo di Anastasia. Per far crescere il marchio, Anastasia - capo designer del Queen's Rose QR Diamond Global - era stata trasferita in patria per lavorare alla diversificazione di Bourgeois.

Grazie agli accordi presi da Bourgeois, Anastasia fu sistemata in un appartamento. Mentre il figlio dormiva, Anastasia si mise a riordinare e a sistemare la sua nuova dimora e, nel giro di due ore, l'appartamento si trasformò in un nido accogliente e perfetto per la coppia madre-figlio.

Era esausta, ma non se la sentiva di andare a letto per oggi, mentre osservava l'adorabile profilo del figlio che dormiva.

Quello che era successo in questa città cinque anni prima la perseguitava ancora e le faceva rivoltare lo stomaco. Il tradimento della sua migliore amica, la cattiveria della sorellastra e l'ultimatum del padre che l'aveva portata all'esilio erano come tagli troppo profondi per essere rimarginati.

È stato un miracolo che sia riuscita a sopravvivere agli ultimi cinque anni. Aveva dovuto conciliare l'educazione del figlio come madre single con la frequenza di corsi di design e, nell'ultima parte dei cinque anni, si era fatta lentamente strada fino a diventare capo progettista. Aveva faticato più di chiunque altro e il cielo doveva averle concesso il colpo di fortuna di cui aveva bisogno per arrivare al punto in cui si trovava oggi.

Ora aveva i suoi risparmi, suo figlio e un lavoro che le permetteva di essere libera.

Prese il telefono e fissò il numero di suo padre. Aveva pensato più volte di chiamarlo, ma qualcosa l'aveva fatta esitare. Sono passati cinque anni. Mi chiedo se sia ancora arrabbiato con me.

Poi tirò un sospiro. Lascia perdere.

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Capitolo 1 Una notte di assurdità
"Anastasia, aiuto! Sono stata molestata al club!".

Il tono disperato e impotente della voce della sua migliore amica era l'unico pensiero di Anastasia Tillman mentre si precipitava al club.

Stanza 808. Anastasia guardò la targhetta con il numero sulla porta della stanza privata. Era lo stesso numero di stanza che la sua migliore amica, Hayley Seymour, le aveva inviato per messaggio. Senza pensarci due volte, varcò la porta per salvare la sua amica.

Quando la porta si aprì sotto la sua mano, fu accolta dall'oscurità. All'improvviso, una mano le afferrò con forza il polso e la trascinò nella stanza buia, seguita da un forte tonfo quando la porta si chiuse.

"Ehi, chi sei e cosa vuoi?". Anastasia gridò, con gli occhi che si muovevano intorno a lei per cercare di capire cosa la circondava.

"Mettiti comoda e ti tratterò bene". La voce profonda e roca di un uomo le parlò all'orecchio.

Un attimo dopo, Anastasia fu scaraventata senza tante cerimonie sul divano e, prima che riuscisse a rimettersi in piedi, un corpo magro e forte la bloccò a terra.

Emise un grido soffocato quando un paio di labbra che sapevano di menta piperita catturarono le sue.

L'uomo sopra di lei era bollente al tatto. Un senso di disperazione le fece venire le lacrime agli occhi mentre cercava di lottare contro l'uomo, ma alla fine non poté fare altro che subire la sua ferocia.

Un'ora dopo, Anastasia uscì dalla stanza barcollando, spettinata. Aveva appena vissuto un incubo, ma questo non la distraeva dal preoccuparsi della sicurezza della sua migliore amica.

Stava per chiamare il numero di Hayley quando vide un gruppo di uomini e donne uscire dalla porta laterale. Sotto le luci, riconobbe immediatamente le due donne del gruppo.

Una era Hayley, la sua migliore amica che aveva chiesto aiuto al telefono prima, e l'altra era la sorellastra di Anastasia, Erica Tillman. Le due ragazze camminavano fianco a fianco con le braccia unite, come se fossero le amiche più intime.

Lo shock e la rabbia colorarono i lineamenti di Anastasia quando le vide. "Fermati lì, Hayley!", esclamò a gran voce, mentre i pugni si stringevano con forza sui fianchi.

Sentendo questo, Hayley ed Erica si girarono di scatto per affrontarla. Anastasia le guardò, con il volto cinereo, e chiese ad Hayley: "Perché mi hai mentito?".

Hayley sorrise. "Non è colpa mia se sei sempre così credulona, Anastasia".

"Ti sei divertita con quel gigolò laggiù?". Chiese Erica con voce cantilenante, sorridendo perfidamente.

Solo allora Anastasia si rese conto che entrambe l'avevano incastrata. La castità che le era stata cara negli ultimi diciannove anni era ora sacrificata per il loro spregevole divertimento.

Gli occhi di Hayley si fecero gelidi e lei sbottò: "Pensavi davvero che fossi tua amica, Anastasia? Ho vissuto nella tua ombra da quando ci siamo incontrate! Ti odio e non desidero altro che rovinare quel tuo viso!".

Erica, dal canto suo, si intromise prontamente ironizzando: "Ho le prove che mi servono per dimostrare a papà che ti sei prostituita per soldi al club. Non ci vorrà molto prima che ti sbatta fuori di casa!".

" Voi due..." Anastasia era così furiosa che barcollava. Il suo corpo era a pezzi dopo il calvario che aveva vissuto e il peso collettivo del tradimento dell'amica e della crudeltà della sorella la fece quasi crollare.

"Andiamo, Hayley! Non vogliamo farci vedere con la spazzatura, vero?". Con il braccio intrecciato a quello di Hayley, Erica la condusse verso l'auto sportiva che aveva parcheggiato sul marciapiede.

Tre giorni dopo, nella residenza dei Tillman, una voce maschile bassa urlò con rabbia: "Sei diventata una escort per soldi solo perché non ti ho lasciato andare all'estero per i tuoi studi? Come posso io, Francis Tillman, essere capace di avere una figlia così sfacciata come te?".

"Papà, io non..."

"Non l'hai fatto? Ma l'hai fatto, Anastasia! Come hai potuto arrivare a tanto? Ti abbiamo fatto morire di fame o ti abbiamo privato di qualcosa? Non posso credere che tu ti sia messa a fare la ruffiana con degli sconosciuti a caso in un lurido club! Per il tuo bene, spero che tu non abbia portato qualche malattia in questa casa. Chissà cosa avremmo potuto beccarci io e mia figlia", sogghignò la donna, vestita di gioielli e abiti raffinati, da dove era seduta sul divano.

"Papà, non sono stata io. -" Anastasia cercò di giustificarsi.

Tuttavia, Francis non volle sentire un'altra parola da lei. Le lanciò un'occhiata minacciosa e sbottò: "Vedo che mi stai ancora mentendo. Esci subito da questa casa! Non sopporterò di averti sotto il mio tetto. Nessuna delle mie figlie potrebbe essere così spudorata. D'ora in poi non sarai più mia figlia!".

Nel frattempo, sul pianerottolo delle scale, Erica osservava la scena appoggiata alla ringhiera con il mento appoggiato alla mano. Tutto stava andando esattamente come aveva previsto. Nel giro di pochi minuti, Anastasia sarebbe stata cacciata di casa e avrebbe vagato come un misero cane randagio.

Al piano di sotto, in salotto, Anastasia si ammutolì quando vide lo sguardo fulminante e deluso del padre. Senza parole, si alzò dalla sedia e salì le scale per raccogliere le sue cose.

Aveva appena girato il pianerottolo quando Erica le sbarrò la strada. Con le braccia incrociate altezzosamente davanti al petto, la ragazza più giovane sogghignò: "Fuori di qui! Non rimanere qui in giro a dare scandalo. In questa casa non ci sarà mai più posto per te!".

Anastasia strinse i pugni guardando l'espressione soddisfatta di Erica.

Vedendo l'odio e la rabbia negli occhi di Anastasia, Erica si chinò in avanti. "Che c'è, vuoi darmi uno schiaffo o qualcosa del genere?". Girò la guancia verso la ragazza furiosa e disse compiaciuta: "Fai pure, allora!".

Senza trattenersi, Anastasia portò la mano sul viso di Erica, dandole un forte schiaffo.

"Ah!" Erica emise un grido stridulo. "Mi hai appena colpito! Mamma, papà... Anastasia mi ha appena colpito!". Urlò mentre si precipitava giù per le scale.

Naomi Lowell prese subito in braccio la figlia e gridò su per le scale: "Come osi colpire mia figlia, Anastasia! A che diavolo di gioco stai giocando?".

Francis guardò le impronte rosse sulla guancia di Erica e non era mai stato così deluso in vita sua. Quand'è che la mia figlia maggiore è diventata così esasperatamente ribelle?

"Papà, fa male...". Erica singhiozzò mentre si rannicchiava tra le braccia del padre, facendo respiri profondi ed esagerati come se stesse soffrendo molto.

"Vattene da qui, Anastasia!". Francis ruggì su per le scale.

Dopo aver fatto i bagagli, Anastasia prese il passaporto e scese le scale. Il suo cuore si raggelò quando vide che suo padre teneva Erica tra le braccia come se fosse qualcosa di prezioso.

Anastasia capì allora che non c'era posto per lei nel suo cuore. Francis aveva ascoltato solo la versione di Erica invece di chiedere ad Anastasia dell'orribile incidente che aveva subito ieri sera.

Da quando sua madre era morta, aveva trascorso gli anni in questa casa vivendo come un'estranea, perché suo padre aveva portato a casa la sua amante e la sua figlia illegittima per formare una nuova famiglia.

La povera madre di Anastasia non aveva mai saputo delle relazioni extraconiugali del marito, nemmeno alla sua morte.

Non tornerò mai più in questo posto.

All'interno della casa, Erica osservò Anastasia che trascinava la valigia fuori dalla porta d'ingresso e un sorriso malvagio le si arricciò sulle labbra. Finalmente mi sono liberata di quell'inutile ingombro!

…

Cinque anni dopo, bussarono alla porta di un appartamento di Dansbury.

La donna che viveva nell'appartamento stava esaminando i suoi progetti quando sentì bussare. Un po' sconcertata, si avvicinò alla porta e la aprì con disappunto. Quando vide i due uomini asiatici in giacca e cravatta, chiese in cinese: "Chi state cercando?".

"Lei è la signorina Anastasia Tillman?", chiese uno dei due uomini in inglese.

"Sono io. E lei è?" Anastasia incalzò.

"Ci è stato chiesto di cercarla. Sua madre, Amelia Chapman, ha salvato la vita al nostro giovane padrone molto tempo fa. L'anziana signora che serviamo desidera vedervi".

A questo punto si accigliò. "Chi è l'anziana signora che servite?".

""L'anziana signora Presgrave", rispose rispettoso il primo uomo.

Sentendo questo, Anastasia capì perché quegli uomini erano venuti lì. L'anziana signora Presgrave era la donna a capo del Gruppo Presgrave, il principale consorzio del paese. Anni prima, la madre di Anastasia aveva sacrificato la sua vita per salvare il nipote maggiore della vecchia signora Presgrave.

Per Anastasia era motivo di grande orgoglio essere nata da un'agente di polizia capace e coraggioso come Amelia.

"Mi dispiace, ma non intendo vederla", disse Anastasia con decisione. Aveva la sensazione che i Presgrave volessero ripagare la grande azione di Amelia, ma non aveva alcuna intenzione di accettare il loro gesto.

Proprio in quel momento, una voce infantile e curiosa si levò dall'interno dell'appartamento, chiedendo: "Mamma, chi è?".

"Nessuno", rispose frettolosamente Anastasia. Poi si voltò verso gli uomini alla porta: "Mi dispiace, ma non sono proprio in vena di ospiti in questo momento".

Con ciò, chiuse la porta.

Nel frattempo, in campagna, un uomo era seduto sul divano della villa a metà collina. "L'avete rintracciata?".

"Sì, signorino Elliot. La ragazza del club di cinque anni fa ha appena venduto il suo orologio al mercato dell'usato".

"Trovatela", disse l'uomo sul divano, con voce profonda e autorevole.

"Sì, signore!"

Capitolo 2 Il suo sapore coinvolgente

La stanza era immersa nel caldo bagliore delle luci. L'uomo che sedeva sul divano aveva lineamenti impeccabili, il suo bel viso era un'opera d'arte del paradiso. Indossava un abito finemente confezionato che accentuava la sua silhouette vigorosa. In quel momento, gli occhi di Elliot Presgrave divennero gelidi, mentre la voce d'acciaio di sua nonna risuonava nella sua mente.

Elliot, devi prendere in moglie Anastasia Tillman. Avrò solo lei e nessun'altra come nuora della famiglia Presgrave.

In questo momento, però, l'unica persona a cui Elliot pensava era la donna che aveva violentato nell'oscurità tanti anni prima. Quella fatidica notte, il suo drink era stato corretto e lo aveva reso così sbronzo che l'unica cosa che ricordava era il modo in cui la donna aveva disperatamente singhiozzato mentre implorava pietà sotto di lui.

Quando tutto era finito, si era tolto l'orologio e glielo aveva messo in mano, per poi svenire nella penombra di quella stanza.

Cinque anni dopo, lui la stava ancora cercando. Solo la settimana precedente aveva saputo che lei aveva venduto il suo orologio al mercato dell'usato, ma la notizia era arrivata troppo tardi, perché sua nonna insisteva affinché prendesse in moglie un'altra donna.

Proprio in quel momento il telefono squillò di nuovo. Prese la cornetta e rispose bruscamente: "Che c'è?".

"Signorino Elliot, abbiamo trovato la ragazza. Si chiama Hayley Seymour ed è stata lei a vendere personalmente l'orologio".

"Mandami il suo indirizzo e le farò visita", ordinò Elliot mentre un bagliore euforico gli lampeggiava negli occhi. La misteriosa ragazza di quella notte è stata finalmente individuata! Devo trovarla, a tutti i costi. Devo farmi perdonare per le cose che ho fatto quella sera.

Nel frattempo, Hayley era in una boutique per donne. Aveva rilevato la boutique da poco più di un anno, ma gli affari erano in costante declino. Lottando per pagare l'affitto, aveva cercato di trovare un modo per racimolare abbastanza soldi per tirare avanti. Alla fine decise di provare a vendere l'orologio in suo possesso e, con sua piacevole sorpresa, lo vendette per l'incredibile cifra di cinquecentomila dollari.

Tanto per cominciare, l'orologio non era suo. Cinque anni fa, il personale del club l'aveva contattata dicendole di aver recuperato un orologio dalla sala privata, invitandola quindi a ritirarlo dal reparto oggetti smarriti. Quando arrivò al club e vide che si trattava di un orologio da uomo firmato, lo rivendicò come suo senza nemmeno un secondo di esitazione.

Da allora l'orologio è rimasto nell'armadio fino a quando, la settimana precedente, si è decisa a venderlo al mercato dell'usato. Prima della vendita, non si aspettava che l'orologio valesse molto, ma questo prima che le venisse offerta la sorprendente cifra di cinquecentomila dollari.

Hayley era raggiante mentre fissava la somma di denaro che aveva sul conto e pensava felice tra sé e sé: "Credo di poter vivere comodamente almeno per un altro po'".

In quel momento, la porta della sua boutique si aprì e lei si alzò rapidamente per accogliere il cliente. "Benvenuto a..."

Si interruppe, talmente stordita da non riuscire a pronunciare il resto delle parole.

L'uomo che era entrato nella sua boutique era alto e dritto. Era bello al di là di qualsiasi immaginazione e possedeva un'innata nobiltà.

Hayley ci mise un po' a riprendersi dallo stordimento prima di inciampare nelle parole per chiedere: "C'è qualcuno che sta cercando, signore?".

Era una domanda lecita, considerando che gestiva una boutique per donne. Era impossibile che un uomo che indossava un raffinato abito fatto a mano fosse lì per curiosare tra abiti e oggetti simili. Sembrava essere alto un metro e novanta e non c'era dubbio che la sua presenza fosse dominante.

"Hayley Seymour?" Elliot chiese mentre i suoi occhi stretti si fissavano su di lei. Le scrutò il viso, cercando disperatamente di trovare tracce della donna di cinque anni prima.

"Sì, sono io. E lei è..." Non riuscì a finire le parole; la sua facoltà di parola stava andando in tilt sotto lo sguardo ardente dell'uomo.

Dopo aver ascoltato la sua risposta, l'uomo frugò in tasca e tirò fuori un orologio maschile, poi chiese con voce profonda e roboante: "Questo orologio è stato in suo possesso per tutti questi anni?".

Hayley lanciò un'occhiata all'orologio e sentì immediatamente l'impulso di ripiegarsi su se stessa. Sbattendo le palpebre per il senso di colpa, balbettò: "Sì, l'orologio è... mio".

"E lei era la donna dell'Abyss Club cinque anni fa? Quella che era nella stanza 808?". Elliot incalzò, guardando intensamente la ragazza di fronte a lui, mentre pensava con un filo di voce: "Potrebbe davvero essere la ragazza di quella notte?

Le idee nella mente di Hayley cominciarono a girare vorticosamente. La stanza 808 di cinque anni fa... Non era la stanza in cui io ed Erica avevamo incastrato Anastasia? Perché quest'uomo mi sta chiedendo di quell'incidente?

Senza soffermarsi troppo su questo punto, rispose senza mezzi termini: "Certo, ero io".

" Prenda questo orologio e non cerchi di restituirlo. Mi farò perdonare per quello che è successo quella notte", disse lui porgendole l'orologio. "Sono Elliot Presgrave. Si ricordi il mio nome, ok?".

Hayley lo guardò scioccata. Elliot Presgrave? Cioè l'erede della Presgrave Corporation, il principale consorzio? "Lei è Elliot Presgrave?", chiese, talmente sopraffatta da rischiare di svenire.

L'uomo accanto a Elliot le porse un biglietto da visita e intervenne: "Signorina Seymour, questo è il biglietto da visita del nostro giovane padrone. Può cercarlo se ha bisogno del suo aiuto in qualche modo".

Prese il biglietto con una mano tremante e, quando vide il nome sconvolgente impresso sulla carta da lettere dorata, il cuore le uscì quasi dal petto. Quindi l'uomo che è andato a letto con Anastasia cinque anni fa non era l' escort maschile che avevamo procurato per lei, ma questo bell'esemplare che si dà il caso sia l'erede della fortuna della famiglia Presgrave?

Quando la consapevolezza si fece strada, Hayley allungò la mano e afferrò il braccio di Elliot, poi costrinse le lacrime a sgorgare negli occhi mentre si agitava. "Devi assumerti le tue responsabilità, Elliot. Sai quanto sono rimasta ferita e traumatizzata dopo quella notte?". A quel punto abbassò lo sguardo e pianse lacrime di coccodrillo, singhiozzando miseramente come se fosse stata lei a essere violentata cinque anni prima.

In quel momento aveva in mente una sola cosa: entrare nei panni di Anastasia e assumere il ruolo della vittima di quella fatidica notte. Era decisa a far sì che Elliot si assumesse le sue responsabilità, in modo da trarne maggiori vantaggi. In definitiva, sperava di sposare l'uomo e diventare la signora Presgrave.

"Non si preoccupi, le prometto che mi assumerò le mie responsabilità", disse l'uomo in modo risoluto, con la sua voce roca e rassicurante.

"Signorina Seymour, il signorino Elliot ha predisposto una villetta per lei e può trasferirsi in qualsiasi momento. D'ora in poi si occuperà di tutte le sue esigenze". L'assistente personale di Elliot, Rey Osborne, glielo fece capire in modo molto gentile.

Gli occhi di Hayley si illuminarono subito. Era così estasiata che avrebbe potuto svenire. Un mondo di ricchezze e di fascino sarà presto nelle mie mani!

"Ci sono alcune cose di cui devo occuparmi, quindi vado", disse Elliot e, dopo aver lanciato una breve occhiata ad Hayley, si girò per andarsene.

Quando la porta si chiuse alle sue spalle, Hayley strinse forte l'orologio. Era così sopraffatta da questa svolta inaspettata degli eventi che avrebbe potuto piangere. "Diventerò ricca! Ricca!". Mentre festeggiava il colpo di fortuna, si ritrovò a sperare ardentemente che Anastasia fosse morta negli ultimi cinque anni, in modo da non apparire dal nulla come fosse un ostacolo.

Nella sobria auto di lusso, Elliot sedeva sul sedile posteriore con gli occhi chiusi. Hayley è davvero la donna di cinque anni prima? Perché sembra diversa? Oppure cinque anni l'hanno cambiata?

I raggi arancioni del sole al tramonto filtravano dal finestrino dell'auto e giocavano sui lineamenti scolpiti dell'uomo. Era così bello che era difficile credere che non fosse un pezzo d'arte di valore che apparteneva a un museo; non c'era nessuno che potesse riprodurre un aspetto così bello.

Era il vero erede del Gruppo Presgrave. Aveva preso le redini cinque anni fa e aveva lanciato il consorzio verso nuove vette, tanto da incoronarlo al primo posto tra le aziende più importanti del mondo.

In quella fatidica notte di cinque anni fa, aveva vissuto la sua prima e unica rovina della sua vita. Uno dei suoi rivali gli aveva corretto il bicchiere nella speranza di manipolarlo per rovinare la sua stessa reputazione. Elliot si era salvato precipitandosi nel privé, ma proprio quando l'effetto della droga era al culmine, una donna a caso era entrata di corsa e lo aveva salvato dalla sua situazione.

Da allora, il fatto di aver appena violentato e portato via l'innocenza di una ragazza gli pesava sulla coscienza.

Era sicuro che lei fosse stata casta fino a quella notte, perché quando si svegliò dopo l'atto, vide sotto le luci della stanza privata le tracce di sangue che macchiavano il divano.

Mentre pensava al disordine sparso nella stanza privata che seguiva il suo misfatto, smise di dubitare dell'identità di Hayley e della sua impressione su di lei. Devo assumermi la responsabilità di ciò che le ho fatto.

Nel frattempo, Anastasia si trovava nel suo appartamento all'estero e diceva al telefono: "Ho capito. Dammi tre giorni al massimo per tornare in patria e prepararmi per la gara".

"Mamma, torniamo indietro?". Una piccola figura si avvicinò al suo fianco. Indossava una camicia a scacchi blu e un paio di pantaloncini di jeans. I suoi lineamenti erano delicatamente scolpiti, anche se infantili. Aveva solo quattro anni o poco più, ma la grazia e l'eleganza dei suoi movimenti erano inconfondibili.

Anastasia sorrise e annuì. "Ti va di tornare con me?".

Capitolo 3 Il rifiuto del loro appoggio

"Ma certo! Verrò ovunque tu vada, mamma!", disse il piccoletto raggiante, con i suoi grandi occhi che sembravano scintillanti onici mentre si incurvavano a mezzaluna.

Anastasia non poteva fare a meno di pensare a quanto fosse bello quel bambino. Ogni volta che guardava il suo visino, provava un'ondata di conforto e gratitudine, come se fosse costantemente in soggezione per come era riuscita a mettere al mondo un piccolo così adorabile.

"Bene, allora è meglio fare i bagagli adesso. Domani pomeriggio andremo all'aeroporto".

"Va bene!" Il piccolo fece un cenno deciso, poi si precipitò in camera sua per preparare le sue cose per il viaggio.

Anastasia tirò un sospiro. Viveva all'estero da quando suo padre l'aveva cacciata di casa cinque anni prima. In realtà non era tanto che non volesse tornare a casa, quanto piuttosto che non ci fosse posto per lei.

Non l'aveva detto a suo padre nemmeno dopo aver partorito all'estero, e ora che stava tornando in patria per il suo lavoro e la sua carriera, aveva deciso di vedere il padre. In fondo era ancora suo padre.

Tre giorni dopo, era sera all'aeroporto internazionale quando Anastasia fece avanzare il carrello dei bagagli. Suo figlio era seduto sopra la grande valigia sul carrello e si guardava intorno meravigliato. Tutto ciò che riguardava la terra d'origine di Anastasia sembrava suscitare il suo interesse, e nei suoi occhi scintillanti c'era un curioso luccichio.

Anastasia era appena uscita dalla sala degli arrivi quando due uomini in giacca e cravatta le si avvicinarono, salutandola poi gentilmente: "Signorina Tillman, siamo stati mandati qui dall'anziana signora Presgrave, che ha predisposto un mezzo di trasporto per lei appena fuori dall'ingresso. Se non vi dispiace...".

Lei sbatté le palpebre e disse con molta cortesia: "Apprezzo il gesto gentile della Presgrave, ma non ho bisogno di un passaggio, grazie".

"Signorina Tillman, l'anziana signora desidera davvero vederla", disse con rispetto l'uomo di mezza età.

Anastasia sapeva che la vecchia signora Presgrave non le portava rancore, ma non aveva davvero intenzione di accettare il gentile favore della vecchia signora. "Per favore, dite alla vecchia signora Presgrave che era dovere di mia madre salvare gli altri e che non c'è bisogno di ripagare l'atto, almeno non a me". Con ciò, passò davanti ai due uomini, spingendo il carro verso l'uscita.

Uno degli uomini tirò fuori il telefono e informò doverosamente: "Signorino Elliot, la signorina Tillman ha rifiutato la nostra offerta di andarla a prendere".

All'ingresso dell'aeroporto erano parcheggiate tre Rolls-Royce nere scintillanti, con i finestrini molto oscurati che impedivano a chiunque di sbirciare all'interno. Un uomo seduto sul sedile posteriore della Rolls-Royce al centro della scorta teneva lo sguardo fisso sulle porte dell'aeroporto e vide una giovane donna che spingeva il suo carrello attraverso di esse proprio mentre lui posava il telefono.

La donna indossava una camicetta bianca e dei semplici jeans. I capelli erano stati raccolti sulla nuca, rivelando un viso delicato e grazioso. La sua pelle era di alabastro e il suo atteggiamento era piuttosto tranquillo mentre manovrava il carrello. Senza dubbio, la sua presenza tra la folla era abbagliante.

Proprio in quel momento, lo sguardo di Elliot fu catturato da qualcosa, o meglio, da qualcuno: un bambino che era saltato giù dal carrello guidato dalla donna. Sembrava avere circa quattro o cinque anni e indossava un maglione grigio con dei joggers, con i capelli folti e morbidi che gli ricadevano sulla fronte. Era giovane, ma i suoi lineamenti erano finemente scolpiti, il che lo rendeva ancora più adorabile.

In quel momento, Anastasia si avvicinò e aiutò il piccolo a raddrizzarsi i vestiti; non c'era modo di confondere lo sguardo gentile e indulgente nei suoi occhi.

Chi è il bambino? Anastasia è sposata? Se è così, non dovrò sposarla solo per soddisfare i desideri della nonna. Con questo pensiero, Elliot guardò il taxi su cui erano saliti Anastasia e il suo presunto figlio allontanarsi. Non molto tempo dopo, anche la sua squadra partì.

Avevano a malapena percorso una distanza quando il suo telefono squillò. Guardò l'ID del chiamante e salutò: "Ciao, Hayley".

"Elliot, quando vieni a trovarmi? Mi sei mancato". La voce timida di Hayley mugolò sull'altra linea.

"Sono stato un po' impegnato ultimamente, ma ci vediamo appena sono libero", rispose lui, con i bassi nella voce in evidenza.

"Promesso?" Chiese Hayley con fare civettuolo.

"Sì", rispose lui con obbligata pazienza.

Nel frattempo, nella Residenza Presgrave, un'anziana signora dai capelli d'argento era seduta sul divano a sorseggiare il suo tè quando sentì le ultime novità dei suoi sottoposti. Alzò lo sguardo sconvolto e chiese: "Cosa? Anastasia ha un figlio? È sposata?".

"Secondo le nostre indagini, il padre del bambino non si è mai fatto vivo, quindi presumiamo che abbia avuto il figlio fuori dal matrimonio".

"Oh, povera cara. Diventare una madre single in così giovane età...". Harriet Presgrave, altrimenti nota come la vecchia signora Presgrave, sospirò. Il senso di colpa la assalì pensando alla coraggiosa poliziotta che era morta dopo aver subito diciotto coltellate fatali da parte del criminale che aveva minacciato di fare del male a Elliot tanti anni prima.

Stava giusto rimuginando su questo episodio quando una figura elegante e imponente entrò nel salotto. Era Elliot, ed era tornato dall'aeroporto. "Vieni qui, Elliot", disse Harriet facendo cenno al nipote di avvicinarsi.

Elliot prese subito posto accanto al suo e cominciò a dire: "Nonna, Anastasia continuava a rifiutare la

"Ho appena scoperto che la signorina Tillman è una madre single che ha avuto un figlio fuori dal matrimonio. Devi prenderti cura di questa povera madre e di questo figlio, Elliot. È il tuo dovere".

Elliot guardò l'anziana donna senza parole, stupito dalla sua proposta. Aveva pensato che lei si sarebbe arresa, ma invece era ancora più determinata a portare a termine la faccenda.

"Nonna, non sono obbligato a sposarla. Potremmo sempre trovare un altro modo per ripagare la gentilezza di sua madre e farci perdonare", replicò con calma, sperando che la nonna si ravvedesse.

Tuttavia, non appena Harriet lo sentì, gli lanciò un'occhiata gelida e disse: "No, questo non va bene. Devi sposare Anastasia, proteggerla e prenderti cura di lei per il resto della sua vita".

Elliot si accigliò. Non pensava che da un matrimonio senza amore potesse venire qualcosa di buono, ma non poteva nemmeno rifiutare la proposta della nonna, perché era decisa a ripagare il sacrificio che la madre di Anastasia aveva fatto tanti anni prima.

"Non puoi nemmeno immaginare quante pugnalate abbia subito l'agente Amelia Chapman solo per proteggerti. La quantità di sangue... La natura raccapricciante del crimine..." Gli occhi di Harriet erano tristi mentre lo diceva. Poi alzò lo sguardo e lanciò un'occhiata severa al nipote, sottolineando: "Prendersi cura di sua figlia è il minimo che tu possa fare. Non sarai mai in grado di ripagare l'atto altruistico dell'ufficiale, anche se dovessi prenderti cura di Anastasia per l'eternità".

Elliot annuì in silenzio. "Bene, allora la prenderò in moglie".

Ma c'era un'altra donna che non poteva lasciare andare, che doveva compensare. Detto questo, non aveva ancora intenzione di parlarne con Harriet e sapeva che, anche se glielo avesse detto, non l'avrebbe dissuasa dal costringerlo a sposare Anastasia.

"Anastasia ha un figlio", disse.

La cosa gli si ritorse contro perché Harriet sembrò entusiasta della notizia. "È vero! È un bambino, probabilmente di circa tre o quattro anni. Non posso credere che qualche furfante li abbia abbandonati così. Ascoltami, Elliot: non osare snobbare quel bambino, è chiaro?".

Elliot stentava a crederci. Fissò la nonna, sconcertato, mentre pensava: "È una specie di accordo "compra uno, prendi due"?

L'Atelier di Gioielleria Bourgeois era una vecchia e rinomata azienda che era stata acquisita dal capo di Anastasia. Per far crescere il marchio, Anastasia - capo designer del Queen's Rose QR Diamond Global - era stata trasferita in patria per lavorare alla diversificazione di Bourgeois.

Grazie agli accordi presi da Bourgeois, Anastasia fu sistemata in un appartamento. Mentre il figlio dormiva, Anastasia si mise a riordinare e a sistemare la sua nuova dimora e, nel giro di due ore, l'appartamento si trasformò in un nido accogliente e perfetto per la coppia madre-figlio.

Era esausta, ma non se la sentiva di andare a letto per oggi, mentre osservava l'adorabile profilo del figlio che dormiva.

Quello che era successo in questa città cinque anni prima la perseguitava ancora e le faceva rivoltare lo stomaco. Il tradimento della sua migliore amica, la cattiveria della sorellastra e l'ultimatum del padre che l'aveva portata all'esilio erano come tagli troppo profondi per essere rimarginati.

È stato un miracolo che sia riuscita a sopravvivere agli ultimi cinque anni. Aveva dovuto conciliare l'educazione del figlio come madre single con la frequenza di corsi di design e, nell'ultima parte dei cinque anni, si era fatta lentamente strada fino a diventare capo progettista. Aveva faticato più di chiunque altro e il cielo doveva averle concesso il colpo di fortuna di cui aveva bisogno per arrivare al punto in cui si trovava oggi.

Ora aveva i suoi risparmi, suo figlio e un lavoro che le permetteva di essere libera.

Prese il telefono e fissò il numero di suo padre. Aveva pensato più volte di chiamarlo, ma qualcosa l'aveva fatta esitare. Sono passati cinque anni. Mi chiedo se sia ancora arrabbiato con me.

Poi tirò un sospiro. Lascia perdere.

Leggi subito il capitolo successivo 👉Spazio per te

After being framed and missing for seven years, his wife paralyzed and daughter humiliated. Now, the War God returns to make everyone pay in blood!👿👿
Chapter 1 The War God Is Released
The gates of Sioux City's prison slowly creaked open.
"Hurry!"
"Surround him!"

Dozens of burly men who had been waiting in the square immediately surged forward and encircled the prison's gate tightly.
Today, a special prisoner was being released.
Lucian Gray stepped out of the prison, casually closing the iron gate behind him. He glanced at the scene outside, his face calm and composed. He muttered, "Seven years ... I didn't expect it would be you guys picking me up."
"Mr. Gray!"
The middle-aged man leading the group, shrank his pupils in shock at the sight of this man.
The surrounding men also tensed, muscles tightened, and eyes fixed on Lucian. They were ready to pounce at any moment.
Lucian paid them no mind.
"Don't call me that."
Shaking his head, Lucian brushed past the middle-aged man. He stated, "Seven years ago, when I was framed, imprisoned, and expelled from the Grays, I ceased being a member of the Grays."
The middle-aged man blocked Lucian's path with an outstretched arm.

"Whether you admit it or not, Gray blood runs through your veins. Upon your release, the family head has instructed us to return you to the manor for punishment." He signalled to the burly men around him.

Immediately, dozens of men surged up, and the circle tightened.

They had blocked all the space around Lucian and made sure there was no escape.

Not even a fly could escape from their siege.

"And if I refuse?"

Lucian's expression remained impassive, but his gaze grew icy. He sneered coldly and mocked, "Did that old fool tell you what to do if I resist?"

"Alive or dead, we'll bring you back!"

The middle-aged man turned. He locked eyes with Lucian, and his intention to kill was unmistakable.

They would kill if necessary.

And with the Grays' power in Sioux, they could take Lucian's corpse back to the manor without facing any consequences.

"Is that so?"

Lucian was momentarily stunned, then he burst into laughter.

Seven years ago, Lucian was the heir of the Grays. His father was a powerful figure, dominating Sioux and holding a significant position in Hohenwald. After being framed and tragically murdered on the streets, his death remained a mystery. Following the incident, the family expelled Lucian and his mother, stripped them of everything, and reduced them to the lowest rungs of society.

Yet the Grays still wouldn't leave him be. They fabricated charges against him and threw him in prison as a means to prevent him from claiming his inheritance.

Seven years later, they still hadn't given up!

"Mr. Gray, come with us."

In the current situation, Lucian had no room to resist. The middle-aged man addressed him respectfully but spoke without a trace of respect, "Once you're back to the manor, if you kneel before the family head and repent, maybe he will spare your life."

To him, Lucian was nothing but an insignificant nobody who had fallen from grace.

"Spare my life?"

Lucian's gaze turned icy. He locked onto the middle-aged man's eyes and said, "Too bad. Even if you kneel before me now, I won't spare you!"

Bang!

Before the middle-aged man could react, his body was arched, and he launched into the air like a cannonball, knocking down several burly men behind him.

Everyone froze in shock.

Lucian's speed was too fast.

So fast that no one saw his strike; they only saw those men fall to the ground.

"You! How dare you!"

The middle-aged man spat out a mouthful of blood. He clutched his stomach, struggling but failing to get up. He roared, "Go! Kill him! Dead or alive! I'll take responsibility!"

Those burly men snapped out of their daze and prepared to attack Lucian.

Bang!

Suddenly, another muffled noise rang out. One of the men was about to raise his fist when a hole appeared in his forehead. The back of his head had been exploding into a horrific mess.

Blood sprayed, splattering the others.

Everyone froze again.

It was the sound of a gunshot!

A powerful bullet had instantly blown a man's head off!

"Stop! Motherf*cker! Anyone who moves dies!"

A roar came from the distance.

Those burly men instinctively turned their heads. A line of military jeeps raced down the previously empty street.

Each jeep carried several soldiers in camouflage uniforms. Each was armed with assault rifles.

It was a breathtaking sight.

"Surround them!"

In a flash, the jeeps stopped in the square outside the prison. Soldiers leaped out and circled around the burly men, guns aimed at their heads.

Gulp! Gulping sounds filled the air.

Only the sound of nervous swallowing broke the silence.

Those burly men were bodyguards, specially trained by the Grays. They were fearless and had committed numerous acts of violence and robbery. However, they were no match for a well-armed and disciplined military force.

If it had been ordinary people, they might have wet themselves in fear.

"You! You all!"

The complexion of the middle-aged man lying on the ground turned pale, and cold sweat soaked his back. He stammered, "Who ... are you? There must be some mistake. We are the Grays' bodyguards from Sioux City."

The Grays of Sioux!

The middle-aged man's gaze locked onto Liam Martinez, the young general who had just given orders. He hoped that the Grays reputation in Sioux would carry some weight in this situation.

A single star adorned Liam's shoulder, indicating his rank as a Major General.

However, the officer ignored the middle-aged man, showing no reaction to his words. He walked straight to Lucian and saluted respectfully. He spoke with a guilty tone, "War God, my apologies for being late."

Chapter 2 What Are You Going to Do to My Daughter?

"War God?"

The middle-aged man furrowed his brows deeply.

Liam Martinez's attitude towards Lucian left him feeling utterly despondent.

A major general bowing and scraping before Lucian—what could this mean? Was it possible that Liam brought dozens of jeeps and a team of over two hundred soldiers here just to welcome Lucian out of prison?

Had Lucian not spent seven years in Sioux Prison?

The middle-aged man couldn't comprehend it.

"No."

Lucian shook his head and said, "You came too early."

"Oh?"

Liam was taken aback.

Lucian continued in a serious tone, saying, "My identity is a top secret and cannot be known by outsiders. Otherwise, I wouldn't have gone to the trouble of returning to prison three days early just to come out openly."

"Mr. Lucian, I'm sorry. It was my oversight!"

Liam seemed to realise something, and he quickly apologised. He then turned to look at the middle-aged man and the burly men, saying sternly, "Please rest assured, War God. I will tie up the loose ends flawlessly."

"Hmm."

Lucian nodded and left.

"Arrest them all and take them back!"

With a wave of Liam's hand, the middle-aged man and dozens of others, including the corpses on the ground, were quickly loaded onto the jeeps.

"Wait! What are you going to do?"

The middle-aged man felt a surge of immense unease. He had a terrible feeling that if these soldiers took them away, they would never return alive.

This was a group of demons!

"Mr. Lucian! Mr. Lucian! Have mercy!"

The middle-aged man screamed in terror.

However, Lucian had no intention of paying attention to him. If these people dared to attack him, they had to be prepared to die!

The middle-aged man realised that he and his men faced certain death if he remained in the car. A flash of inspiration hit him, and he immediately said, "Lucian, you'd better let us go, or the Grays won't spare your wife and daughter!"

"What did you say?!" Lucian's gaze was sharp and piercing as he stared at him. He asked, "My daughter?"

The middle-aged man was stunned by Lucian's reaction, then he burst into laughter. He revealed, "Hahaha, you didn't even know you had a seven-year-old daughter, did you? Shortly after you went to prison, your wife gave birth to a girl. Not long after, she had a car accident and broke her leg. She has been in a wheelchair ever since.

"The Harrisons wouldn't welcome those freeloaders. the Harrisons have evicted your wife, daughter, and parents. Now, they struggle to even eat a decent meal."

A woman with disabled legs had to raise a seven-year-old daughter—how had they managed all these years?

When Lucian heard how difficult life had been for his wife and daughter, his heart was filled with grief and anger.

The middle-aged man continued, "If you let us go, I'll take you to see Freya. I can even persuade the family head to help you fight the Harrisons."

Lucian didn't respond. He simply answered with a bullet!

"The Harrisons deserve to die, and so do the Grays!"

After dealing with the rest, Liam caught up to Lucian. He asked, "Mr. Lucian, should we send people to eliminate the Harrisons and the Grays completely?"

"No need."

Lucian shook his head and said, "Clean up these people and keep it quiet for now. Take me to see Freya. I owe them too much."

His elite soldiers could locate someone in Sioux in a matter of minutes.

Watching the scenery speed by outside the military jeep's window, Lucian felt a whirlwind of emotions.

Seven years ago, Lucian was the undisputed prince of Sioux. Freya Harrison, his beloved, was not only the campus belle but also the Harrison family’s heiress. She shone brightly in a major project after graduation and became the vice president of the Harrison Group, amassing a fortune.

Lucian was expelled from his family and left with nothing. Freya defied her family. She abandoned everything and secretly married him.

When the Harrisons found out, the family head was furious. He immediately took Freya away, forcibly separating the two.

Lucian accepted the crimes the Grays framed and went into prison to protect Freya and her family.

He never expected Freya to give birth to his daughter after being taken away.

Lucian had no idea about this. Soon after his release from prison, the military recruited him and dispatched him on secret missions across the borders. He had severed all ties with Sioux.

Only now did he learn of the hardships Freya and their daughter had endured.

Chapter 3 How Dare You Touch My Daughter?

The bustling market was alive with chatter and bartering sounds.

"Our jewellery is beautiful and affordable, Miss. I went to the big market in the next city with my mom to get it," Minnie called out sweetly.

"Take a look, sister. It will look so pretty on you."

Dressed in a patched-up dress, Minnie called out in a sweet, childish voice on the bustling street. Every time a girl passed by, she would eagerly approach, trying to sell her products. Despite being only seven, her eyes reflected a maturity far beyond her years.

Minnie was a well-known figure in the market. At just seven, she brought her paralysed mother to earn a living.

Many women passing by would buy some jewellery to support Minnie, as she was too proud to accept charity without giving something in return.

Freya sat in her wheelchair, her head tilted, and watched the scene with blank eyes. Despite being with her daughter every day at the stall, she couldn't help but shed tears secretly.

Minnie was just a seven-year-old child, yet she had to shoulder such a burden.

Freya, as Minnie's mother, felt the unbearable shame of not only being unable to provide a good life for her daughter but also relying on Minnie to earn money to support them. This made her feel worse than death, and she cried every day. If it weren't for the thought that Minnie had no other relatives, she would have ended her life long ago.

"Hey, the little b*stard is out with her crippled mother, selling things again. How much did you make today? Are you ready to pay your protective fees yet?"

Suddenly, a bald, tattooed man loomed over Minnie. He was smashing a few pieces of jewellery with a kick.

"Viper, Calvin, what are you two doing here?"

Freya's eyes burned with blazing rage as she recognised them.

Viper was a local gang leader who often extorted money from the market vendors.

Because Minnie was young and easy to bully, he had already taken money from her several times.

Calvin Harrison, her cousin, was a true wastrel. He was the one who orchestrated the car accident that ruined Freya's life. Back then, Freya shone too brightly in the business world, posing a threat to his future. His ruthless ambition led him to destroy her without mercy.

Calvin folded his arms and laughed coldly. "Why shouldn't I be here? Do you own this market?"

He was there to relish the scene. Witnessing Freya, who had once been so powerful but was now brought down to such a pitiful state by his actions, gave him great pleasure.

Viper was wearing a malevolent smile as he glanced at the young girl and her disabled mother. He asked, "What? I'm here to collect protection fees, obviously. Ask anyone around—everyone knows me, Viper. Without my protection, do you think you could set up shop here?"

Viper pointed to the other vendors around them and asked thunderously.

The onlookers glared at him with anger. They despised Viper for picking on children and disabled people, but their anger was held back by fear—not of Viper himself, but of the gang that supported him.

"But you already took 2 dollars from me two days ago!"

Minnie protested loudly.

"That was then. Today, I want 200 dollars. If you don't pay up, you and your crippled mother will come to work for me to pay off the debt," Viper growled.
With one hand, he grabbed Minnie's arm, and with the other, he grabbed Freya's wheelchair handle.
Twenty dollars was an enormous sum for Minnie; it was impossible for her to gather.
Even if she could, Viper wouldn't let them go.
This time, he was here on orders. Someone had taken a keen interest in the little girl's organs and was willing to pay a hefty sum for them!
This could easily net him hundreds of thousands, which is much quicker than extorting these poor street vendors.
Moreover ...
Viper glanced at Freya. Despite the fear and exhaustion etched on her face, her beauty still shone through.
"Even though you're a cripple, I can still make money by sending you to a brothel!"
As he spoke, Viper reached out to touch Freya's face.
Freya's face turned deathly pale at his words!
Minnie was like an enraged lion cub. She screamed, "Let go of my mom!"
Then she bit Viper's arm violently, tearing off a chunk of flesh.
"Argh! You little b*stard!" Viper yelled.

Viper hastily flung Minnie aside, throwing her heavily to the ground!
The process tore a piece of flesh from his arm.
"You little brat, how dare you bite me? I'll teach you a lesson!" he snarled.
"Minnie!" Freya's heart shattered as she saw her daughter thrown down. She grabbed Viper's pants, trying to stop him, but he kicked her away, leaving her covered in mud.
"Motherf*cker!"
The excruciating pain enraged Viper completely. Cursing, he strode towards the dazed Minnie, raising his foot to stomp down on her.
Bang! A gunshot rang out!
Viper instantly clutched his leg. He howled in agony as a bullet tore through.
From the direction the bullet came, Lucian slowly lowered his smoking gun, his face brewing with an uncontainable fury. He questioned, "How dare you lay a hand on my daughter?!"
Due to space limitations can only update to this, more exciting content please click to see.👈👈

After being framed and missing for seven years, his wife paralyzed and daughter humiliated. Now, the War God returns to make everyone pay in blood!👿👿
Chapter 1 The War God Is Released
The gates of Sioux City's prison slowly creaked open.
"Hurry!"
"Surround him!"

Dozens of burly men who had been waiting in the square immediately surged forward and encircled the prison's gate tightly.
Today, a special prisoner was being released.
Lucian Gray stepped out of the prison, casually closing the iron gate behind him. He glanced at the scene outside, his face calm and composed. He muttered, "Seven years ... I didn't expect it would be you guys picking me up."
"Mr. Gray!"
The middle-aged man leading the group, shrank his pupils in shock at the sight of this man.
The surrounding men also tensed, muscles tightened, and eyes fixed on Lucian. They were ready to pounce at any moment.
Lucian paid them no mind.
"Don't call me that."
Shaking his head, Lucian brushed past the middle-aged man. He stated, "Seven years ago, when I was framed, imprisoned, and expelled from the Grays, I ceased being a member of the Grays."
The middle-aged man blocked Lucian's path with an outstretched arm.

"Whether you admit it or not, Gray blood runs through your veins. Upon your release, the family head has instructed us to return you to the manor for punishment." He signalled to the burly men around him.

Immediately, dozens of men surged up, and the circle tightened.

They had blocked all the space around Lucian and made sure there was no escape.

Not even a fly could escape from their siege.

"And if I refuse?"

Lucian's expression remained impassive, but his gaze grew icy. He sneered coldly and mocked, "Did that old fool tell you what to do if I resist?"

"Alive or dead, we'll bring you back!"

The middle-aged man turned. He locked eyes with Lucian, and his intention to kill was unmistakable.

They would kill if necessary.

And with the Grays' power in Sioux, they could take Lucian's corpse back to the manor without facing any consequences.

"Is that so?"

Lucian was momentarily stunned, then he burst into laughter.

Seven years ago, Lucian was the heir of the Grays. His father was a powerful figure, dominating Sioux and holding a significant position in Hohenwald. After being framed and tragically murdered on the streets, his death remained a mystery. Following the incident, the family expelled Lucian and his mother, stripped them of everything, and reduced them to the lowest rungs of society.

Yet the Grays still wouldn't leave him be. They fabricated charges against him and threw him in prison as a means to prevent him from claiming his inheritance.

Seven years later, they still hadn't given up!

"Mr. Gray, come with us."

In the current situation, Lucian had no room to resist. The middle-aged man addressed him respectfully but spoke without a trace of respect, "Once you're back to the manor, if you kneel before the family head and repent, maybe he will spare your life."

To him, Lucian was nothing but an insignificant nobody who had fallen from grace.

"Spare my life?"

Lucian's gaze turned icy. He locked onto the middle-aged man's eyes and said, "Too bad. Even if you kneel before me now, I won't spare you!"

Bang!

Before the middle-aged man could react, his body was arched, and he launched into the air like a cannonball, knocking down several burly men behind him.

Everyone froze in shock.

Lucian's speed was too fast.

So fast that no one saw his strike; they only saw those men fall to the ground.

"You! How dare you!"

The middle-aged man spat out a mouthful of blood. He clutched his stomach, struggling but failing to get up. He roared, "Go! Kill him! Dead or alive! I'll take responsibility!"

Those burly men snapped out of their daze and prepared to attack Lucian.

Bang!

Suddenly, another muffled noise rang out. One of the men was about to raise his fist when a hole appeared in his forehead. The back of his head had been exploding into a horrific mess.

Blood sprayed, splattering the others.

Everyone froze again.

It was the sound of a gunshot!

A powerful bullet had instantly blown a man's head off!

"Stop! Motherf*cker! Anyone who moves dies!"

A roar came from the distance.

Those burly men instinctively turned their heads. A line of military jeeps raced down the previously empty street.

Each jeep carried several soldiers in camouflage uniforms. Each was armed with assault rifles.

It was a breathtaking sight.

"Surround them!"

In a flash, the jeeps stopped in the square outside the prison. Soldiers leaped out and circled around the burly men, guns aimed at their heads.

Gulp! Gulping sounds filled the air.

Only the sound of nervous swallowing broke the silence.

Those burly men were bodyguards, specially trained by the Grays. They were fearless and had committed numerous acts of violence and robbery. However, they were no match for a well-armed and disciplined military force.

If it had been ordinary people, they might have wet themselves in fear.

"You! You all!"

The complexion of the middle-aged man lying on the ground turned pale, and cold sweat soaked his back. He stammered, "Who ... are you? There must be some mistake. We are the Grays' bodyguards from Sioux City."

The Grays of Sioux!

The middle-aged man's gaze locked onto Liam Martinez, the young general who had just given orders. He hoped that the Grays reputation in Sioux would carry some weight in this situation.

A single star adorned Liam's shoulder, indicating his rank as a Major General.

However, the officer ignored the middle-aged man, showing no reaction to his words. He walked straight to Lucian and saluted respectfully. He spoke with a guilty tone, "War God, my apologies for being late."

Chapter 2 What Are You Going to Do to My Daughter?

"War God?"

The middle-aged man furrowed his brows deeply.

Liam Martinez's attitude towards Lucian left him feeling utterly despondent.

A major general bowing and scraping before Lucian—what could this mean? Was it possible that Liam brought dozens of jeeps and a team of over two hundred soldiers here just to welcome Lucian out of prison?

Had Lucian not spent seven years in Sioux Prison?

The middle-aged man couldn't comprehend it.

"No."

Lucian shook his head and said, "You came too early."

"Oh?"

Liam was taken aback.

Lucian continued in a serious tone, saying, "My identity is a top secret and cannot be known by outsiders. Otherwise, I wouldn't have gone to the trouble of returning to prison three days early just to come out openly."

"Mr. Lucian, I'm sorry. It was my oversight!"

Liam seemed to realise something, and he quickly apologised. He then turned to look at the middle-aged man and the burly men, saying sternly, "Please rest assured, War God. I will tie up the loose ends flawlessly."

"Hmm."

Lucian nodded and left.

"Arrest them all and take them back!"

With a wave of Liam's hand, the middle-aged man and dozens of others, including the corpses on the ground, were quickly loaded onto the jeeps.

"Wait! What are you going to do?"

The middle-aged man felt a surge of immense unease. He had a terrible feeling that if these soldiers took them away, they would never return alive.

This was a group of demons!

"Mr. Lucian! Mr. Lucian! Have mercy!"

The middle-aged man screamed in terror.

However, Lucian had no intention of paying attention to him. If these people dared to attack him, they had to be prepared to die!

The middle-aged man realised that he and his men faced certain death if he remained in the car. A flash of inspiration hit him, and he immediately said, "Lucian, you'd better let us go, or the Grays won't spare your wife and daughter!"

"What did you say?!" Lucian's gaze was sharp and piercing as he stared at him. He asked, "My daughter?"

The middle-aged man was stunned by Lucian's reaction, then he burst into laughter. He revealed, "Hahaha, you didn't even know you had a seven-year-old daughter, did you? Shortly after you went to prison, your wife gave birth to a girl. Not long after, she had a car accident and broke her leg. She has been in a wheelchair ever since.

"The Harrisons wouldn't welcome those freeloaders. the Harrisons have evicted your wife, daughter, and parents. Now, they struggle to even eat a decent meal."

A woman with disabled legs had to raise a seven-year-old daughter—how had they managed all these years?

When Lucian heard how difficult life had been for his wife and daughter, his heart was filled with grief and anger.

The middle-aged man continued, "If you let us go, I'll take you to see Freya. I can even persuade the family head to help you fight the Harrisons."

Lucian didn't respond. He simply answered with a bullet!

"The Harrisons deserve to die, and so do the Grays!"

After dealing with the rest, Liam caught up to Lucian. He asked, "Mr. Lucian, should we send people to eliminate the Harrisons and the Grays completely?"

"No need."

Lucian shook his head and said, "Clean up these people and keep it quiet for now. Take me to see Freya. I owe them too much."

His elite soldiers could locate someone in Sioux in a matter of minutes.

Watching the scenery speed by outside the military jeep's window, Lucian felt a whirlwind of emotions.

Seven years ago, Lucian was the undisputed prince of Sioux. Freya Harrison, his beloved, was not only the campus belle but also the Harrison family’s heiress. She shone brightly in a major project after graduation and became the vice president of the Harrison Group, amassing a fortune.

Lucian was expelled from his family and left with nothing. Freya defied her family. She abandoned everything and secretly married him.

When the Harrisons found out, the family head was furious. He immediately took Freya away, forcibly separating the two.

Lucian accepted the crimes the Grays framed and went into prison to protect Freya and her family.

He never expected Freya to give birth to his daughter after being taken away.

Lucian had no idea about this. Soon after his release from prison, the military recruited him and dispatched him on secret missions across the borders. He had severed all ties with Sioux.

Only now did he learn of the hardships Freya and their daughter had endured.

Chapter 3 How Dare You Touch My Daughter?

The bustling market was alive with chatter and bartering sounds.

"Our jewellery is beautiful and affordable, Miss. I went to the big market in the next city with my mom to get it," Minnie called out sweetly.

"Take a look, sister. It will look so pretty on you."

Dressed in a patched-up dress, Minnie called out in a sweet, childish voice on the bustling street. Every time a girl passed by, she would eagerly approach, trying to sell her products. Despite being only seven, her eyes reflected a maturity far beyond her years.

Minnie was a well-known figure in the market. At just seven, she brought her paralysed mother to earn a living.

Many women passing by would buy some jewellery to support Minnie, as she was too proud to accept charity without giving something in return.

Freya sat in her wheelchair, her head tilted, and watched the scene with blank eyes. Despite being with her daughter every day at the stall, she couldn't help but shed tears secretly.

Minnie was just a seven-year-old child, yet she had to shoulder such a burden.

Freya, as Minnie's mother, felt the unbearable shame of not only being unable to provide a good life for her daughter but also relying on Minnie to earn money to support them. This made her feel worse than death, and she cried every day. If it weren't for the thought that Minnie had no other relatives, she would have ended her life long ago.

"Hey, the little b*stard is out with her crippled mother, selling things again. How much did you make today? Are you ready to pay your protective fees yet?"

Suddenly, a bald, tattooed man loomed over Minnie. He was smashing a few pieces of jewellery with a kick.

"Viper, Calvin, what are you two doing here?"

Freya's eyes burned with blazing rage as she recognised them.

Viper was a local gang leader who often extorted money from the market vendors.

Because Minnie was young and easy to bully, he had already taken money from her several times.

Calvin Harrison, her cousin, was a true wastrel. He was the one who orchestrated the car accident that ruined Freya's life. Back then, Freya shone too brightly in the business world, posing a threat to his future. His ruthless ambition led him to destroy her without mercy.

Calvin folded his arms and laughed coldly. "Why shouldn't I be here? Do you own this market?"

He was there to relish the scene. Witnessing Freya, who had once been so powerful but was now brought down to such a pitiful state by his actions, gave him great pleasure.

Viper was wearing a malevolent smile as he glanced at the young girl and her disabled mother. He asked, "What? I'm here to collect protection fees, obviously. Ask anyone around—everyone knows me, Viper. Without my protection, do you think you could set up shop here?"

Viper pointed to the other vendors around them and asked thunderously.

The onlookers glared at him with anger. They despised Viper for picking on children and disabled people, but their anger was held back by fear—not of Viper himself, but of the gang that supported him.

"But you already took 2 dollars from me two days ago!"

Minnie protested loudly.

"That was then. Today, I want 200 dollars. If you don't pay up, you and your crippled mother will come to work for me to pay off the debt," Viper growled.
With one hand, he grabbed Minnie's arm, and with the other, he grabbed Freya's wheelchair handle.
Twenty dollars was an enormous sum for Minnie; it was impossible for her to gather.
Even if she could, Viper wouldn't let them go.
This time, he was here on orders. Someone had taken a keen interest in the little girl's organs and was willing to pay a hefty sum for them!
This could easily net him hundreds of thousands, which is much quicker than extorting these poor street vendors.
Moreover ...
Viper glanced at Freya. Despite the fear and exhaustion etched on her face, her beauty still shone through.
"Even though you're a cripple, I can still make money by sending you to a brothel!"
As he spoke, Viper reached out to touch Freya's face.
Freya's face turned deathly pale at his words!
Minnie was like an enraged lion cub. She screamed, "Let go of my mom!"
Then she bit Viper's arm violently, tearing off a chunk of flesh.
"Argh! You little b*stard!" Viper yelled.

Viper hastily flung Minnie aside, throwing her heavily to the ground!
The process tore a piece of flesh from his arm.
"You little brat, how dare you bite me? I'll teach you a lesson!" he snarled.
"Minnie!" Freya's heart shattered as she saw her daughter thrown down. She grabbed Viper's pants, trying to stop him, but he kicked her away, leaving her covered in mud.
"Motherf*cker!"
The excruciating pain enraged Viper completely. Cursing, he strode towards the dazed Minnie, raising his foot to stomp down on her.
Bang! A gunshot rang out!
Viper instantly clutched his leg. He howled in agony as a bullet tore through.
From the direction the bullet came, Lucian slowly lowered his smoking gun, his face brewing with an uncontainable fury. He questioned, "How dare you lay a hand on my daughter?!"
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