Chapter 195
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Yolanda was at home by herself, still racking her brain over how to bring up Eric’s situation.
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Charles was uncompromising sometimes, and if she went ahead and made decisions for him, he’d immediately get suspicious.
She hadn’t figured out a plan yet when Edward reached out and suggested they meet up.
Yolanda knew she couldn’t just step out. She figured Uncle Edward must’ve noticed that Charles had been acting completely normal ever since that last hospital stay, and now he was getting too restless to wait any longer.
Her eyes darted as she came up with an excuse, then she quickly replied to his message.
“Sorry, Uncle Edward, I’m at the Sinclair manor visiting Grandma Flora.”
After she sent the message, Yolanda drove off to the Sinclair manor by herself.
Yolanda had never been welcome at the Sinclair manor, so she always went out of her way to steer clear of the place.
She dreaded bumping into Richard Sinclair.
Yolanda had always treated Richard with the utmost respect–he’d been a legendary figure in Beloris when he was young, and being around him always made her nervous, worried she’d say the wrong thing.
Luckily, Richard wasn’t there tonight–he’d gone to church.
Yolanda let out a sigh of relief and headed upstairs to see Grandma Flora.
There was a stronger scent of herbal medicine hanging in the air, but Grandma Flora’s voice was full of warmth.
“Yolanda, why did you come here all by yourself?” Grandma Flora asked kindly.
“I just wanted to check on you, Grandma,” Yolanda replied.
She helped Grandma Flora sit down at the edge of the bed, and the older woman gently patted Yolanda’s hand.
“I’ve heard all the rumors going around,” Grandma Flora said.
Yolanda wasn’t surprised. Grandma Flora was a sharp one–she might be stuck in bed, but nothing in the Sinclair family ever slipped past her. The caretakers always made sure she was up to date with every bit of gossip from Beloris, so she never missed a thing.
Yolanda kept obediently massaging Grandma Flora’s shoulders, gently pressing on specific pressure points to
soothe her.
10:59 Mon, Oct 20
Chapter 195
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Illness doesn’t care how strong you used to be–once you’re stuck in bed, even legends have to surrender.
Grandma Flora didn’t have much time left, and everyone in the Sinclair family doted on her.
“Yolanda, I’m really hoping you and Charles will give us a child,” Grandma Flora said.
Every time Yolanda visited, Grandma Flora would always mention this.
Yolanda knew if she kept dodging the issue, Grandma Flora might start supporting Joelle Monroe instead.
As long as the baby has Charles‘ blood, that’s really all Grandma Flora cares about.
“I’ll try to talk to Charles about it, Grandma,” Yolanda said gently.
Grandma Flora closed her eyes and let out a comfortable hum, the pressure points Yolanda worked on clearly making her feel relaxed.
“You’re such a thoughtful girl, Yolanda. These moves you picked up are really something–nobody else here can give me a massage like you do. Too bad you’re not a bit more adaptable,” Grandma Flora teased.
Yolanda took all the advice to heart, listening respectfully and not missing a word.
Grandma Flora wasn’t exactly thrilled with Yolanda–she simply found her easy to handle, always obedient, and on top of that, the massages were something no one else could match. That’s why, for now, Grandma Flora kept her close. After living at the top for so long, she’d seen everyone try every trick just to get on her good side–she could see right through a woman’s schemes. As far as Grandma Flora was concerned, Joelle Monroe was definitely not the obedient type.
So, when given the choice between someone who plays by the rules and someone who refuses, Grandma Flora would, at least for now, always side with the one she could control.
Yolanda spent another half hour massaging, then moved to a small stool by the bed and started gently rubbing Grandma Flora’s legs. Trying to sound sweet and thoughtful, she said, “I had a dream at noon where your legs were hurting. I kept worrying about it, so I just had to come by and see you myself.”
Grandma Flora laughed at Yolanda’s words and called for a servant to bring over a jewelry box. Inside was a pair of jade stud earrings.
“I saw you’ve pierced your ears. I can’t wear these old pieces anymore, so why don’t you take them?” Grandma Flora offered warmly.
“Grandma, these are just way too precious,” Yolanda replied, a little overwhelmed.
“Just take them. You always dressed so simply, and Charles doesn’t have a clue–he never even thinks to buy you more jewelry or nice clothes. What woman doesn’t love these things?” Grandma Flora insisted.
Yolanda didn’t argue anymore. “Thank you, Grandma.”
“You look absolutely lovely today, Yolanda–just the way Charles likes his girls. Has he been a bit more affectionate lately?” Grandma Flora teased, her eyes crinkling with a knowing smile.
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Chapter 195
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Yolanda’s cheeks turned pink. She kept her head down, busily working on Flora’s leg and trying not to meet her gaze, too embarrassed to say anything.
Grandma Flora seemed perfectly satisfied, feeling convinced she’d be holding a great–grandchild very soon.
Yolanda stayed until 9 p.m., then changed her shoes at the entrance, ready to leave.
She sent Charles a quick text, letting him know she’d been over to give Grandma Flora a leg massage and was on her way back.
Then, almost as an afterthought, she casually mentioned that Uncle Edward had messaged her, asking to meet up.
As expected, Charles called immediately, his voice low and clearly on edge. “Exactly when did he reach out to you?”
Yolanda kept the call going as she headed out, but the moment she stepped near the courtyard, she halted, startled–Uncle Edward was standing there, obviously waiting for her.
“Uncle Edward,” Yolanda murmured, heart pounding, barely able to get the words out.
Uncle Edward was scowling, his face clouded with irritation.
Yolanda hurriedly said on the phone, “Honey, I just bumped into Uncle Edward here at the Sinclair manor. And Grandma’s actually doing fine, so don’t worry about her.”
Uncle Edward felt an instant pang of regret–he never expected Yolanda would so completely expose him to Charles in just a split second. ‘Why did I even bother reaching out?‘ he thought bitterly.
Yolanda hung up and shot him a careful, uneasy glance. “Uncle Edward, do you need something?” she asked, doing her best to sound calm.
Uncle Edward, jaw tight from anger, strode over and snapped, “Why is Charles still completely unfazed by all this?”
A few days ago, he’d quietly slipped Cedric the reserve price for that land. If everything went according to plan, tomorrow night’s bidding would see the Andrade manor grabbing that property.
But watching Charles acting so nonchalant made Uncle Edward uneasy–he couldn’t shake the suspicion that something just wasn’t right.
Just as Yolanda was about to respond, Uncle Edward’s phone rang. Someone was calling to say they’d found a bunch of bloodstained tissues in Charles‘ office.
Uncle Edward sounded skeptical. “Are you sure?”
“Mr. Sinclair, it’s real. We personally questioned the cleaning guy who deals with the trash, and it took a lot to get him to open up. My guess? Charles’s health isn’t looking great, but with Richard about to come back, he’s just pushing through,” the caller explained.
Uncle Edward’s lips curled into a smirk, and he let out a sigh of relief. “Alright, keep watching him.”
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Chapter 195
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Yolanda didn’t catch a word of that phone call, but from the look on Uncle Edward’s face, she was instantly on alert–betting this had Charles written all over it, another one of his hidden moves.
Charles was a master schemer, always spinning webs within webs–no wonder Uncle Edward just couldn’t keep up.
Uncle Edward gave a cold, mocking snort, his eyes sweeping over Yolanda with a chilling leer that lingered far too long, full of unspoken threat.
“What a pity—a woman as young as you, practically wasting away as a living widow. When Charles kicks the bucket, why not come over to your dear uncle instead?” he sneered, his words laced with twisted amusement.
“Uncle Edward, you’re supposed to set an example. Talking to me like this is way out of line,” Yolanda retorted, her tone unyielding.
“Drop the act with me, Yolanda. Everybody knows Charles barely cares about you–bet he doesn’t even touch you most of the year. I’m just worried for that loneliness of yours. It really would be a shame to let a body like yours go to waste. If you ever figure it out, just hit me up,” he said, smirking with shameless arrogance.
With that, Uncle Edward walked off, a smug grin plastered across his face.
Yolanda just stood there, her stomach twisting in disgust, barely holding back the urge to retch.
Over the years, Uncle Edward had lost his edge at the company, all thanks to Charles. The projects he managed were just leftovers Charles tossed his way, enough for him to make a bit of pocket change. Yet Edward actually fooled himself into thinking he’d fought for those wins, certain he was more capable than Charles–just lying in wait for his big comeback.
But the truth was, even if he kept scheming for another twenty years, he’d still never match up to Charles.
Yolanda honestly thought he was pitiful—even his own son didn’t respect him.
But Yolanda had done what she set out to do tonight. She glanced over her shoulder, catching sight of a servant half–hidden behind a pillar.
The servant stiffened, shrinking back as soon as Yolanda noticed her. “I didn’t hear a thing, miss,” she stammered quietly.
Yolanda pressed her lips together, feeling a flush of shame creep up her cheeks. “Please, just… don’t tell anyone about any of that,” she said.
But in a place like the Sinclair manor, keeping secrets was impossible–Charles had eyes everywhere.
Uncle Edward’s creepy words would be making their way to Charles before anyone even knew it.
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.
