Chapter 180
Chapter 180
Mary nodded, trembling. Just then, her phone rang–it was saved as “Husband.”
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She was too weak to answer, so Yolanda helped her out, tapping the button and putting it on speaker.
An impatient male voice echoed through. “I’m on a business trip. I missed your call. Do you need something?”
His tone was way too cold for a husband.
Yolanda frowned as she heard Mary ask, “When are the kids coming home?”
“Why do you keep worrying about that? You’re swamped with work anyway. The kids finally have a break–let them enjoy themselves a bit. It’s not like they can just sit around at home all day, right? I’m heading out now, so unless it’s actually important, don’t call me. I’ve got stuff to do too.”
Mary was about to say something else, but he just hung up on her, cutting her off mid–sentence.
The “beep, beep, beep” from the phone was like the final curtain on the conversation; Mary let the breath she’d been holding slowly slip away. Looking at Ms. Grant, she spoke gently, “Ms. Grant, you should go home and rest. Sorry to trouble you last night.”
“Things aren’t good between you and your husband, are they?” Yolanda asked directly.
Yolanda caught onto something–guys were only this cold at home when they had something going on outside. ‘He must be messing around,’ she thought.
Mary managed a smile, though it barely reached her eyes. “It’s not really bad between us, just… pretty cold. Honestly, I’m swamped at work–especially with all I’ve put into Starlight and dealing with the endless drama from our female artists. There’s only so much one person can handle. I hardly get any time with my husband and kids these days. Money’s about the only thing I can offer them to make up for it.”
Even if the folks at Starlight aren’t exactly fond of me, having that 3% stake means my paycheck blows everyone else’s out of the water. I’m the one holding down the whole fort, covering everything so my kids can go to the best private school. My husband works too, but what he earns in a month barely comes close to what I make in a week.
Yolanda, having been through it herself, couldn’t help but warn her, “Just keep an eye on him. His attitude toward you is way too cold.”
She didn’t want to come right out and say he might be cheating–didn’t want to embarrass Mary.
Mary gave a silent nod and closed her eyes.
As Yolanda left the room, she made sure to close the door behind her.
It was just past 5:30 a.m., and the sky was barely starting to lighten. She stepped into the elevator.
Just as the elevator doors were about to close, a hand darted in, forcing them open again.
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Yolanda glanced at the guy who’d just stepped in. He was young, but the way he was looking at her made her skin crawl.
Yolanda frowned, fished out her phone, and called lan.
Ian was lounging in his car, rubbing his tired eyes. “You’re heading home?”
“Yeah, I’m just leaving the public hospital. Should be home in twenty minutes,” Yolanda said.
Ian was filming today, so he got up at 4 a.m.
He yawned as he looked toward the hospital.
He’d gotten up early just to see Yolanda, but he was way too nervous to go up and say hi. So he just waited quietly outside, hoping for a glimpse before he had to run off to set.
He was driving that van Yolanda had bought for him, packed top to bottom with his stuff–enough that even if he had no assistant, he could still take care of everything himself while parked outside the studio.
Yolanda stepped out of the elevator and was about to turn the corner when she heard footsteps behind her. Instinctively, she turned to check, but before she could react, a rough hand slammed over her mouth. The handkerchief reeked of chemicals, and as she struggled, the world spun–she could barely keep from blacking
out.
Eric Long couldn’t take it anymore. Yolanda wasn’t just a stunner–her body was something else. As he gripped her wrist, her skin felt velvety soft under his fingers, making his heart race.
Eric thought, ‘If I could have her tonight, it’d be pure ecstasy.
Swallowing hard, unable to hold himself back, he dragged her straight toward the storage room, not caring who might see.
The storage room was about twenty square meters, basically the janitors‘ broom closet, with nothing inside but a single cramped sofa.
As Eric pushed the door open, the stale, moldy smell assaulted their senses.
Yolanda was running on pure survival instincts, fighting desperately. In her frantic struggle, she accidentally landed a stinging slap across his face.
Eric’s head jerked to the side, his eyes twisted with malice. Without hesitation, he threw her down hard onto the sofa.
“You little bitch, you looking for trouble?” he spat, his voice low and dangerous.
Ian had been waiting outside for five minutes, but Yolanda still hadn’t shown up. ‘Didn’t she say she was on her way out?‘ he wondered.
He pulled on his hat and mask and headed into the hospital lobby.
There was just one nurse working the front desk, so he walked over to her and asked, “Hey, did you see
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anyone leave through here just now?”
Even with most of his face covered up, that killer physique and magnetic presence still made him look ridiculously handsome.
The nurse shook her head, then hesitated. Yolanda’s striking appearance made her memorable, so the nurse kind of recalled seeing her earlier.
It helped that there’d only been one emergency surgery tonight, and, to be honest, Yolanda was seriously good–looking–kind of hard to forget.
“She didn’t come down. You might want to try upstairs; her room’s 306 on the third floor,” the nurse replied.
Ian headed up to the third floor and peeked through the window of room 306. Mary was fast asleep, but Yolanda was nowhere in sight.
Frowning, he headed back down to the first floor. In a gentle voice, he called out, “Ms. Grant?”
It was still early, so Ian made sure to keep his voice down, not wanting to wake anyone.
Suddenly, a loud crash echoed from a nearby small room. Ian walked over, trying to see what was happening inside.
But the door was locked up tight, and there was no way to see anything.
It seemed pitch dark in there, so he headed to the front desk and asked the nurse on duty, “What’s that room over there? I thought I heard some noise.”
“Oh, that’s the cleaners‘ break room. Probably just someone who pulled an all–nighter and hasn’t left yet,” she replied.
Ian nodded, about to walk away almost on autopilot.
But suddenly, another sound came from inside the room, making him freeze.
Yolanda’s mouth was clamped shut so hard she could barely gasp for air. Desperate, she kicked at the wall again and again, hoping someone–anyone–would hear her and come running.
Eric squeezed her neck even tighter, a wild, nervous edge to his voice. “Try moving one more damn time and I’ll end you right here!”
Summoning the last bit of strength she had, Yolanda sank her teeth into the fleshy part between his thumb and index finger–and seized the chance to cry out, “Ian!”
Ian was about to leave when he heard her voice. Without hesitating, he kicked the door open.
The heavy stench of mold rushed out as he flicked on the flickering yellow light. There was Yolanda, being firmly pinned down by a strange man.
The nurse at the doorway had been ready to yell at Ian for breaking the door, but when she saw what was happening inside, she froze in shock and let out a terrified scream.
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Rage surged in lan’s eyes. He strode over, hauled Eric upright, and delivered a vicious kick straight to his
stomach.
Eric spat out a mouthful of blood on the spot, certain a few of his ribs had snapped.
Jan seized Eric’s head and slammed it hard into the wall–three brutal times–splattering the surface with streaks of blood.
Yolanda was barely holding on, her whole body shaking uncontrollably.
The nurse, finally snapping out of her shock, rushed over and grabbed fan’s arm.
“Stop! I’ll call the police right now and explain everything. You don’t want to get in trouble over this guy. Go see if your girlfriend’s okay!” she pleaded.
She figured that with how worked up Ian was, Yolanda must be his girlfriend.
Ian snapped to his senses, turned quickly, and pulled Yolanda into his arms. “Ms. Grant… it’s alright. You’re safe now.”
Yolanda’s eyes stayed clear and focused, but she couldn’t stop trembling all over–from the lingering fear.
She curled up in his embrace, her lips still shaking.
Ian scooped her up and marched out of the room, holding her close. “You’re safe now.”
Yolanda didn’t say a word. Her face was white as a sheet, but her gaze stayed unwavering and calm.
Ian settled her gently into the van, his hand steady on her back. “Don’t be scared.”
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Cedella is a passionate storyteller known for her bold romantic and spicy novels that keep readers hooked from the very first chapter. With a flair for crafting emotionally intense plots and unforgettable characters, she blends love, desire, and drama into every story she writes. Cedella’s storytelling style is immersive and addictive—perfect for fans of heated romances and heart-pounding twists.
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.
