Chapter 105
Yolanda’s throat was burning, so sore that she couldn’t even get a word out.
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Charles stood in front of her, gently ruffling her hair. “Tell William there’s no need to call the police. Let’s not make a big scene out of this.”
She found it almost hilarious, but just as she was about to reply, Charles spoke again.
“The orphanage has been in that part of town for years. Truth is, the lease on that land expired six months ago–it was supposed to go up for auction, but I bought the rights. It’s pretty remote, and I haven’t figured out what to do with it, so it’s just sitting there.”
That statement was a plain threat. Charles held the rights to that land, and if he wanted, he could kick the orphanage out any time.
Right now, there were more than thirty kids living in the orphanage, plus William, the director. Finding a place for all of them would be tough.
Even if she had cash, it was Charles’s money anyway. If he wanted to, he could freeze her account in a heartbeat.
The Sinclair family was just too big and powerful. Yolanda and William together were nothing more than a drop in the ocean compared to them.
Charles’s fingers gently gripped her chin, tilting her face up. “Renee hasn’t been doing well lately. I’ll have someone keep an eye on her so she doesn’t sneak out again. Yolanda, talk to William about this, okay?”
Yolanda looked up at him.
Charles thought he caught a faint trace of hatred flicker in her eyes—as if he might be imagining things.
He froze, wondering if he’d imagined it.
“Charles, don’t you think this kind of move is messed up?” she asked.
“Are you saying this is my fault?” he replied.
“How could I dare?” she muttered.
He pulled her close and kissed her hair. “Come on, don’t be mad. I’ll have Jack pick out some new bags for you. If you’re feeling down, just head out and go shopping or something.”
Yolanda just felt powerless. She forced a half–smile, turning her back to him. “600 grand to buy a life—if Renee can finally sleep, I guess that’s worth it.”
Charles’s face turned grim. “So what do you want from me? She’s the Sinclair family’s daughter, you know that. I can’t just trade one life for another.”
“How could I even dare ask that, Charles? I’m just exhausted. I just want to sleep,” she muttered.
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Charles looked at her for a long moment, then simply turned and walked out.
As soon as the door closed, Yolanda’s phone started ringing.
It was William. She really didn’t want to pick up, but she had no choice.
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“Yolanda, Mr. Sinclair came to talk to me. He wanted to settle this off the books–I told him to beat it. But after thinking it over, maybe this is all we can do. You’re caught in the middle, and there’s no way we can win against him. I refused the 600 grand. I just can’t stand the thought of Joey crying in my dreams at night. That’s it, Yolanda. Let’s just leave it,” William said, sounding tired.
Yolanda opened her mouth, but in the end, she couldn’t say a word.
William sighed on the other end and hung up.
She lay in bed, utterly exhausted and drifted off, only to wake up the next day to find several new messages from Renee on her phone.
Renee had sent over photos–including shots of Charles sitting by her bedside, taking care of her last night.
May was in the pictures, too. But that’s just how the Sinclair family was with Renee–spoiling her from a young age, never letting anything bad happen to her.
[Yolanda, too bad I didn’t finish you off–now that pathetic kid paid the price instead. Heard you knew him. I hope he haunts your dreams! Get this straight: no matter what I do, the Sinclair family’s always on my side. My brother would never fall for you. Ever.]
Yolanda stared at the screen, feeling nothing at all. She shut off the display, letting the phone drop onto the
bed.
She got up, got ready, and went with William to the hospital to retrieve Joey’s body. They took him for cremation, then went out to pick a grave.
William looked like he’d aged ten years in just a few days. Standing at Joey’s gravestone, his back was hunched, and his hair was now all white.
Back then, he didn’t have this much white hair.
Yolanda placed some snacks at the grave, then set the flowers down beside them.
William touched the stone, wanting to say something, but ended up just sighing and waving her off.
“Yolanda, I watched you grow up all the way to ten years old. I know exactly what kind of child you are. Let it go this time, okay? Don’t make me worry about you, please,” William said, unable to hide his concern.
Yolanda pressed her lips together and forced a smile. “William, I won’t do anything. You have my word.”
“Maybe not now, but sooner or later, you will. I know you too well. Back when my wife was on her deathbed, I tried to visit you at the Grant family’s mansion, but Mrs. Grant blocked me at the door. She wanted you to just forget about the orphanage. Life here has always been tough–my wife and I truly cared about you, but we barely had enough to eat, splitting a single bun between us. Most kids who get adopted by a rich family
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would’ve cut us out for good, but you, you kept coming back. You’ve got stubbornness deep in your bones. Even after the Grant family paid us to stay away, you sent gifts here over and over. My wife always brought you up, saying you were the only one she couldn’t stop worrying about.”
Out of all these children, Yolanda was the most sensible–never crying, never causing trouble.
William took her hand and gripped it tight. “Take my advice. Live your own life. If things ever get too hard for you, just get a divorce. From now on, just bring some flowers here every year. Joey was a good kid–he wouldn’t ever blame you for it.”
Yolanda managed a weary smile, taking his arm gently. “Come on, William. I’ll drive you back to the orphanage.”
William just couldn’t tell if she’d truly taken his words to heart. As he settled into the car, he turned his back and quietly wiped away his tears, hoping Yolanda wouldn’t notice.
Yolanda drove him back to the orphanage, then called someone in to fix up the marks left by the car crash.
Some of the kids who’d witnessed Joey’s death that day had come down with fevers and still needed extra
care.
By the time she made it back to Moonbay Estate, Yolanda was absolutely wiped out, but she couldn’t force herself to go inside.
So she headed straight for Ian’s place instead.
Tonight, Ian still wasn’t home–he was probably stuck at work, shooting a scene somewhere.
Yolanda collapsed onto the couch.
When Yolanda woke up, her head was resting in someone’s lap. She blinked sleepily, only to catch a glimpse of Ian’s impossibly handsome jawline above her.
He had a script in one hand, while the other was gently massaging her scalp, his touch soothing.
Yolanda tried to sit up, but Ian softly pushed her back down. “Just relax for a while. You were having a bad dream,” he murmured.
Ian grabbed a tissue from the side table and wiped away the sweat on her forehead, his movements tender. “You didn’t just have a nightmare–you were talking in your sleep, too,” he said, concern in his voice.
Yolanda kept her eyes closed, her lips feeling dry.
Ian picked up a glass from the table, took a sip of water, then leaned down and passed the water to Yolanda mouth to mouth, letting it flow softly between their lips.
He didn’t move away immediately, lingering to trace her lips with his own, letting the moment stretch out with gentle intimacy.
Yolanda didn’t resist.
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The kiss was soft and tender. After they parted, Yolanda sat up slowly.
Ian set the glass down and went back to flipping through his script. “Your husband called earlier,” he said casually.
Yolanda glanced at her phone–Charles had indeed called twice.
She didn’t call him back, just leaned back against the couch. It was already midnight.
Ian leaned in, set his script aside, and gently rubbed her temples. “Got a headache?”
“A bit,” Yolanda mumbled.
“Want me to kiss it better?” he teased, still massaging her head.
But just as he was about to get closer, Yolanda stopped him. “Ian, let me just be quiet for a bit.”
Ian paused and pulled back fast. “Did Charles give you a hard time?”
AD
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.
