Yolanda texted lan to ask what time he was going to the set tomorrow.
He replied right away: [10 AM. You coming?]
Yolanda felt a bit better. In the suffocating Sinclair family, chatting with Ian was surprisingly relaxing. [I’ll be there. Is your boxing room all set up?] she replied.
Ian sent a photo a minute later. It showed a 1000–square–foot space with one punching bag standing on the floor and a few more hanging from the ceiling.
He was in a black short–sleeve, one hand slipped into a black boxing glove. Even from the picture, Yolanda could see the veins in his arm, subtle but noticeable.
Yolanda’s lips twitched into a small smile. If Ian got that lead role in Simone’s show, his career would take off for sure.
Charles‘ voice cut in from beside her, “Who you texting?”
Yolanda tightened her grip on the phone for a split second, then set it down casually. “Megan, my partner at the studio,” she said flatly. “She had a car accident a couple days ago. I’m just checking in.”
Charles poked her cheek with a finger. “Smiling that soft for her?”
‘I smiled softly? No, that was an ambitious grin,‘ Yolanda thought. Still, she put on a tender smile, though she couldn’t care less about him. “I smile like that for you too, honey,” she said.
As they held each other’s gaze, Flora interrupted, “Since you two are so close, when are you gonna think about kids? Charles, you’re twenty–eight–time to start thinking about it.”
Charles’s smile faltered. He took Yolanda’s hand, lacing their fingers together. “Yolanda’s health isn’t the best. We’ll talk about it in a few years.”
‘He doesn’t want kids, but he used me as a shield. Bet Flora will now think I can’t have babies, Yolanda thought.
Sure enough, Flora’s face soured. She turned to the butler beside her, ordering, “Arrange a full checkup for Yolanda. See if there’s something wrong with her womb.”
“Yes, Mrs. Sinclair,” the butler replied.
Yolanda tensed, anger flickering for a second as she glanced at Charles.
Charles stayed cool, calmn as ever. “Grandma, no need for that. She’s just on the delicate side.
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Pregnancy might make her worse. Let’s wait.”
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Flora’s face was stone–cold. “Wasn’t she married to have kids? It’s been two years–nothing. Wait much longer, and the other woman might beat her to it.”
Yolanda dropped her gaze, thinking, ‘Fine. Let the other woman have his kid. Sophie’d jump at the chance.‘ But when she looked up, her face was all worry. “Honey, I can handle it. Let’s try tonight. Honestly, I want a baby too.”
Charles’s expression clouded over.
Flora let out a relieved breath, pleased Yolanda was being “sensible.” She smiled, “I have some special wine. Take a bottle home tonight. It’ll help you get pregnant in two weeks, guaranteed.”
Charles said nothing, slowly letting go of Yolanda’s hand. She could tell that he was repulsed.
After dinner, as Charles and Yolanda prepared to leave, Flora had someone fetch a bottle of her special wine, which was packed with god–knows–what “fertility supplements.”
Yolanda’s eyelashes fluttered, and she looked up with a smile. “Grandma, one bottle might not be enough. Could you get a few more? Charles…” She paused, seeming to hold back the rest.
Flora’s face shifted. She quickly ordered someone to fetch five more bottles. These were packed with heavy–duty stuff, the kind that’d make even a sterile man to a brothel.
Simone hid a smirk from the side. ‘Yolanda’s got some nerve, she thought.
Charles stood by the car, jaw tight. He didn’t say yes or no–just stayed quiet.
Yolanda hurried to the guys carrying the wine. “Stick those in the trunk, please. Thanks,” she said. Then she glanced at Simone.
Simone made a phone gesture, signaling they’d connect later.
Yolanda nodded, then climbed into the car with Charles.
They didn’t head to Moonbay Estate. Instead, they drove to Muse Club. It was the spot for rich kids, a fancy bar that burned cash. Members only, no randoms allowed.
Charles unbuttoned the top of his collar, clearly ticked about those five bottles of special wine.
“Why here?” Yolanda’s lips curved a little. He actually brought her out tonight–how “generous.”
Charles hauled her into his lap. “You think I can’t perform because I’ve been ignoring you?”
Yolanda’s face flickered, but quickly she collected herself. “Honey, I want a baby. But you keep
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shutting me down–what else was I supposed to do?” she murmured, her voice dripping with false sweetness.
Charles dropped the act, gripping her chin. “Yolanda, you remember the rule? No baby for you.”
Yolanda looked down, silent.
Charles softened his voice. “It’s just a kid. I’ll make it up to you another way.”
Yolanda looked at him. “Really? Then I want an agent, Tessa Gilbert.”
Charles frowned. That name rang a bell.
Yolanda continued, “I want to sign her to my studio. Since I can’t be in the spotlight, she’ll front for me. I checked her out–she’s good. She can get resources from Starlight Entertainment for me.”
To Charles, this was small potatoes. At least it was better than her going on about a baby. He looked toward the front and called, “Jack.”
Jack answered right away, respectful. “I’ll let the execs at Starlight Entertainment know ASAP.“”
Charles nodded, patted Yolanda’s cheek, and said, “Don’t pull this kind of stunt again. Grandma’s getting old and might actually believe you.”
Yolanda dropped her gaze, acting docile. “Got it. My bad tonight.”
Jack almost spoke up–Tessa had ticked off Sophie. But with Yolanda asking and Charles agreeing, he kept his mouth shut. He was just an outsider, and he knew better than to get involved.
Finally, Yolanda landed a legitimate chance to use “Tessa Gilbert” in public. This was just the first step, and by the time Charles figured it out, it’d be way too late.
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11:35 Wed, Sep 10
Chapter 26

Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
Part 1: The Discovery of BetrayalYolanda Grant’s marriage was built on patience, sacrifice, and quiet endurance — but that illusion shattered in one night. It was late when she arrived at a dark, empty alley after receiving a mysterious message with an address. At first, she thought it was a misunderstanding. After all, her husband Charles Sinclair — a man of wealth, power, and refined taste — would never lower himself to something so vulgar. But when she saw him holding a young woman in his arms, kissing and touching her like a man possessed, every ounce of denial drained from her. Charles, the proud and disciplined businessman, was cheating — and in a filthy alleyway, no less.Part 2: The Scene of HumiliationFrom the safety of her car, Yolanda watched as the scene unfolded. The woman clinging to Charles was frail, trembling, and emotional, like a flower blooming in the mud. The surroundings — the stained floor, damp walls, and suffocating darkness — mocked everything Charles had always claimed to be. This wasn’t just infidelity; it was degradation. Yolanda’s mind swirled with disbelief. Her husband, who obsessed over class and perfection, had become a man of impulse and dirt. She didn’t confront him or make a scene; she didn’t even cry. Instead, she leaned back in her seat, numb, realizing that her marriage was already over in spirit.Part 3: Two Years of DevotionAs she sat there, flashes of the past flooded her mind. Two years of marriage — two years of her trying to please him in every way. She had known from the start that Charles didn’t love her. On their wedding day, he had made it painfully clear that his heart already belonged to another woman. Still, Yolanda married him out of hope, out of love, out of the foolish belief that devotion could melt even the coldest heart. She gave up her career, her ambitions, and her independence, just to prove she was worthy of him. She cared for him like a nurse for her patient — cooking his meals, planning his wardrobe, and tending to every detail of his life. And in return, she got nothing but distance and silence.Part 4: The Breaking PointNow, watching him entwined with another woman, everything she had built inside her — the patience, the sacrifice, the illusion — collapsed. The man she had once called her husband had become unrecognizable. He had torn off his noble mask and revealed himself as nothing more than a beast driven by desire. Yolanda felt like she’d been slapped, her dignity shattered into pieces. But instead of screaming or crying, she felt an eerie calm. Her pain was too deep to express. All she could think was: This marriage must end.Part 5: Charles’s UneaseWhile Yolanda drove home, Charles suddenly sensed that something was wrong. The headlights of a passing car illuminated his face, and a chill ran down his spine. He didn’t know whose car it was, but unease stirred in his chest. The girl in his arms whimpered for his attention, but his mind was already elsewhere. Straightening his clothes, he pulled away coldly. “That’s enough for tonight,” he said flatly. “The company’s got big projects. I can’t afford divorce rumors right now.” His words revealed not love, but calculation — every move guided by image and control. The girl, blinded by her feelings, agreed softly, claiming she would wait. But to Charles, it was just another temporary indulgence.Part 6: The Return HomeWhen Yolanda returned home, the villa felt colder than ever. She had just come out of the shower when Charles entered the bedroom, carrying his jacket. He looked as immaculate as always — tall, handsome, commanding — but tonight, his arrogance seemed cruel. On his pristine white shirt, Yolanda noticed a faint smear of pink lip gloss. She had never worn lip gloss; she hated its stickiness. That small, shiny mark told her everything she needed to know. As she dried her hair, she kept her expression neutral, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of seeing her pain.Part 7: The Cold ConversationCharles glanced at her and asked casually, “When did you get back?”“This afternoon,” she replied.He loosened his tie, unbuttoning his shirt as if nothing had happened. “I was out playing golf tonight,” he added. The lie rolled off his tongue effortlessly. Through the reflection in the window, Yolanda saw the dirt on his back — proof that golf wasn’t the only game he’d been playing. With quiet fury, she shot back, “Then I guess you scored plenty of holes. Congrats.”Her sarcasm caught him off guard. For the first time, he frowned, slightly unsettled. He wasn’t used to this tone from her — the woman who once worshiped him now sounded indifferent, almost mocking.Part 8: His Cruel ArroganceInstead of apologizing, Charles smirked and wrapped his arm around her waist. “Are you mad? I told you when we got married that I didn’t love you. If you’re that unhappy, find someone else to cheat with.” His words cut through her like a blade. It wasn’t just betrayal anymore — it was humiliation. He treated her heartbreak as an inconvenience, as if her pain were irrelevant. Inside, Yolanda’s chest felt like it was being strangled with wire, every breath searing. Yet she stayed silent. Her quietness, once a sign of love, now turned into armor.Part 9: The Memory of InnocenceIn that moment, Yolanda’s mind drifted back to when she first met Charles. She was young, freshly adopted into the Grant family, and he was already the picture of perfection — disciplined, confident, untouchable. Back then, she looked at him with admiration and love. To her, he was everything she aspired to be. Never in her wildest dreams did she imagine that this same man would someday make her feel worthless. All those years of love, of marriage, of giving — they now felt like a cruel joke.Part 10: A New Beginning Hidden in the Word “Fine”Charles chuckled when she finally said, “Fine.” To him, it was just another empty threat, another outburst that would fade with time. He kissed her cheek, confident that her love would keep her shackled to him forever. What he didn’t realize was that this time, “Fine” wasn’t surrender — it was goodbye. Behind her calm eyes, Yolanda had already made her decision. The love that once bound her had turned to ash, and from that ash, something new was forming — strength.Chapter 1 ends with Yolanda’s quiet determination to take back her life. She won’t cry or beg anymore. This time, she’ll walk away — not as a broken wife, but as a woman reborn through betrayal.