Yolanda took a deep breath, her expression hardening. “I’m not pregnant. No need to go to the hospital.”
Charles’s stare cut through the air, icy enough to make the temperature drop.
Yolanda suddenly realized–she’d never really known him at all.
“Whether you go to the hospital isn’t your call,” Charles said, getting in the car first.
Yolanda stood there silently. For a moment, she felt like the ache was not in her stomach but buried deep in her chest. Years of love didn’t simply disappear, not even after seeing the painful truth.
She slid into the car, her face ashen, and leaned back with her shut.
eyes
Jack kept driving. Without Charles saying a word, he steered toward the hospital.
Yolanda had figured the checkup would be fine, nothing special–then her phone buzzed. Ian’s name flashed across the screen.
He said, “Megan was in a car crash. She’s at the hospital, and her husband, Henry, is flipping out, yelling about needing to see you.”
‘Megan? In an accident? She was fine that morning.‘ Yolanda’s heart raced as she blurted out, “Is she okay? Are you hurt?”
“I wasn’t there. She called me, and now she’s unconscious in surgery,” Ian said. He hesitated, then added, “And Henry’s a gambler.”
“The same hospital as this morning? I’m on my way.” Yolanda hung up and turned to Charles. “I need to go to Beloris Hospital. My friend was in an accident.”
The hospital Charles was taking her to was funded by the Sinclair family–miles from Beloris Hospital.
Charles stared down at the papers, slowly turning the pages. A sardonic gleam flickered in his
eyes.
Yolanda’s face went even paler. She could read it in his eyes–he thought she’d just made the whole thing up.
Still, she began, “I’m not pregnant. I’ll show you the test results tomorrow. But I have to get to the hospital right now. My friend’s in critical condition. She’s my business partner, and she—”
11:32 Wed, Sep 10
Chapter 15
:
Charles cut her off, voice icy. “What’s that got to do with me?”
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His coldness cut deeper tonight, revealing a side of him she’d never seen before. Now, she finally understood how heartless he truly was.
‘Right. If he had a heart, he wouldn’t have married me, slipped into my bed, then gone straight to someone else without blinking,‘ She sneered silently, wrenching the car door open.
Shocked, Jack slammed on the brakes. “Mrs. Sinclair, that’s way too dangerous!”
Yolanda hit the ground with a thud. Her ankle screamed in pain, and she knew it was going to swell up badly.
“Mrs. Sinclair!” Jack called, but Yolanda didn’t look back. She just limped away.
Charles sat in the car, his eyes razor–sharp and his mouth pressed into a thin, hard line. Cold fury radiated from him.
Jack shifted uncomfortably, picking his words carefully. “Mr. Sinclair, maybe we should—”
Charles slammed the door shut, his face dark. “Leave her.”
Jack went silent. He shifted the car into drive and pulled away.
*****
Yolanda kept walking, her ankle throbbing. Blinding headlights suddenly cut through the dark, and an oncoming car swerved, barely missing her. She froze.
The window rolled down, and a guy yelled, “What’s wrong with you? Wanna die? Fine, but don’t take me with you!” The window snapped shut, and the car peeled off, tires screeching.
A chill ran through Yolanda. She touched her cheek and found tears on her fingertips.
She quickly wiped them away, resolve hardening in her eyes. She wouldn’t shed another tear over Charles–not worth it. She’d only end up despising herself if she did.
Yolanda walked for half an hour, ignoring the burn in her leg. When she finally reached the hospital entrance, she saw Ian standing there.
He was tall, masked and hat pulled low, blending into the night. But even so, people passing by couldn’t help glancing back.
He looked up, spotted her, and hurried over. “M–Ms. Grant.”
Yolanda paused, realizing lan had never called her by name earlier. “Just use my name,” she said quietly. “How’s Megan?”
11:32 Wed, Sep 10
Chapter 15
Ian’s eyes dropped to her stiff leg. “You hurt?”
“It’s nothing. Is Henry still causing a scene?”
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Ian lowered his lashes, his voice quiet. “Yeah. The hospital called security, and he started fighting them.”
Yolanda felt a twist of guilt–she’d failed as a boss, even more as a friend. She knew Megan was married, but she’d never bothered to ask about her marriage.
She pushed through the pain and kept walking.
Outside the ER, Henry’s angry yell cut through the air. “That witch better die in there. Won’t give me money when I ask, huh? Serves her right!”
Yolanda’s face hardened. Noticing that Ian was about to move, she quickly seized his arm.
He glanced at her small hand gripping his sleeves. His lashes flustered, and he looked away.
Yolanda stood there, watching as security dragged Henry off–looked like they’d toss him out.
She then turned back at Ian and said, “Stay out of this kind of drama no matter what. You’ve got fans now. People could dig up dirt on you.
“If you ever make it big, this could become a major scandal. Get labeled as a troublemaker, and you’ll never shake that reputation.”
Ian hesitated. “But-”
Yolanda cut him off, “No buts. I’m the one handling your career, so you listen.” Her eyes were bright, her lashes still damp from tears she’d shed not long ago. Now, her expression was nothing but pure determination.
With that, she turned the corner and walked up to the security guards.
Henry, still struggling to break free, spotted her and his eyes lit up. ‘Wow, she’s gorgeous,‘ he thought to himself.
Yolanda ignored him, speaking politely to the guards. “Please get him out of here.”
Henry let out a sneer, his face twisting with bitterness. “You’re Megan’s boss, right? She bragged her boss was a pretty piece. Guess you funded that studio on your back, huh? No real boss looks like a freaking temptress.”
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.
