The long hair of the two girls fluttered in the evening breeze as they stood side by side, looking up at the starry night.
Chapter 203
“Joelle, I’ll take you home and send two of my Jasper Clarks to protect you, Charles said softly.
Joelle nestled into his arms, nodding slowly. In that moment, she felt so broken that she couldn’t even find words—‘It’s like the whole world has abandoned me, Joelle thought.
Yolanda had tangled with Joelle before, but now their paths couldn’t be further apart. Joelle was after Charles’s devotion and body, while Yolanda only cared about the power he wielded.
As for his affections? She couldn’t care less–let whoever wants his love have it.
That morning, Yolanda woke up and went straight to Frank Doyle. Both of them reviewed the stock transfer agreement one more time to make sure everything was in order. Then Yolanda called Charles, asking him to let the police know about the situation.
Frank’s car was waiting outside the police station. When he saw Eric come out, he finally let out a sigh of relief.
But Eric wasn’t having it—his face twisted in rage, and he was about to start cursing when a guy dressed in black stepped out from the car and grabbed him, shoving him inside before he could protest.
Frank sat inside, his expression calm. “I’ve bought you a ticket to go abroad. Don’t ever come back.”
Eric started thrashing around, like he’d just heard the funniest joke. “You want me to be your son’s slave? You wish! Frank, I know you look down on me–well, guess what, I don’t need you. Let me out! I’m after Yolanda now, and I’m going to ruin her–make her regret ever crossing me!”
Frank slapped him hard across the face.
you
One of the bodyguards spoke up softly, “Mr. Doyle gave Yolanda eight percent of his shares just to bail out. Mark got into trouble a few days ago, and now he’s burned across ninety percent of his body–he’s nothing but a shadow lying in bed, not even human anymore. Mr. Doyle’s doing this for your own good.”
Eric’s malicious glare slowly faded, lips pressed tight. ‘Mark got messed up?‘ he thought, disbelief flickering in his eyes.
Just a few days ago, Mark was acting all cocky, flaunting how he was going to hook up with some chick.
Frank stared out the window, his tone flat. “I have no idea what kind of crap Mark’s been whispering in your ear all these years. Eric, I’ve always treated you like family–like you were my own blood. My own son left the country because he thought I was playing favorites with you; he got mad, packed his bags, and cut me out of his life. I never sent him away. When my sister died, it crushed me. She meant everything to me. I’ve been trying to make up for losing her by looking after you, but you always take it the wrong way. Mark was obsessed with Yolanda back then, and look at what he’s become–do you really think none of that is connected to her? The only reason you’re out is because I had something she wanted. You may have been caught up in someone else’s game this whole time, and you don’t even realize it.”
Eric felt a chill sweep over him as he suddenly recalled the person who’d made him do it. He hadn’t even seen their face clearly that day–he’d just wanted to prove himself and grab enough cash to escape overseas.
His lips started to tremble as Frank went on. “I’ve put ten million in your account; it’s everything I got from selling several houses. I gave my shares to Yolanda, so I can’t stick around at Starlight anymore. Edward Sinclair won’t ever let me go. If anything ever happens to me, just go live abroad with Jack. Don’t come back.
Jack was Frank’s son, and Eric’s cousin.
Eric wasn’t a total idiot–he knew Frank meant every word.
It felt like someone had his throat in a vise; Eric was stunned into silence, not knowing what to say.
Of course Eric hated Frank–hated him more than anyone else. If his mom hadn’t died, he never would’ve fallen this far. He used to be a straight–A student, but everything changed in a flash. The pain of losing his mom, his own dad kicking him out with that mistress–his whole world flipped upside down. He was still just a kid. How was he supposed to handle all that?
“Eric…” Frank was about to say something more when his face suddenly tensed up.
One of the bodyguards leaned forward, voice low and urgent. “Mr. Doyle, someone’s tailing us.”
Frank didn’t hesitate for a second. “Get Eric to the airport–go, now!”
The car stopped abruptly and the bodyguard rushed Eric out of there.
Just seconds later, the car pulled away and disappeared down the road.
Three minutes after that, a massive truck smashed into the car–there was a fiery explosion, and the wreck was reduced to ashes. No one inside stood a chance.
Eric was completely numb, his whole body frozen as he watched the fiery scene play out–he barely registered anything before he was roughly forced into the back of a taxi.
His pupils were blown wide with shock, staring blankly. The moment reality sank in, Eric lunged for the car door.
Eric yelled, “Let me out! Let me out!”
The bodyguard held Eric back, his expression cool and unfazed. “Mr. Long, my only job is to get you to the airport safe.”
Eric suddenly burst out laughing, almost manic. “Impossible! Frank’s got ice in his veins–he’d never die for someone else, it’s a total lie! And Jack? Please, Frank just shipped him overseas. Jack’s at some top university, chasing foreign girls and living the dream. Everything’s easy for him, while the whole damn world turned its back on me–hell, even the dogs wouldn’t have me!”
The bodyguard’s reply was calm but firm. “Mr. Long, Jack got into that college with his own effort. He hasn’t taken a dime from Mr. Doyle all these years. Every cent Mr. Doyle saved was for you. That eight percent of shares? Worth tens of millions–and he gave it all up for you. Hate him if you want, but don’t blame him for stuff he never did.”
Eric buried his head in his knees and started sobbing uncontrollably.
Chapter 20O
The bodyguard stayed silent, just telling the driver to step on it.
But when the car turned the corner, Eric saw his moment. He threw the door open and jumped out into the
street.
The bodyguard was completely stunned–he’d barely moved to give chase when another car whipped by, nearly sideswiping the door and forcing him to pull back.
Eric’s hands were bound with rope, streaked with blood from his struggles. He gnawed at the restraints around his wrists like a wild animal, frantic to break free, but they were tied way too tight. His mouth was smeared with blood.
Eric dashed blindly through a cramped alley, stumbling and half–running until he burst onto a new street. The glare of the sunlight hit him so hard he was nearly blinded, forcing him to blink and stagger for a
moment.
Then he heard a voice. “Eric?”
Yolanda was standing just ahead, bag slung over her arm and phone in hand, brow furrowed as she looked at him. Her voice was cool and detached. “Wasn’t Frank supposed to ship you out? Why are you still here?”
Eric collapsed to his knees, frantically bowing his head over and over. “Yolanda, I messed up–please, I’m begging you, just untie me! I was wrong, I shouldn’t have treated you the way I did. Please, I’ll do anything, just help me get these ropes off!”
Yolanda gave his bloody wrists a quick glance, her tone icy and detached. “Forget it. We’ve got bad blood–ask someone else.”
“My uncle’s dead! Edward Sinclair killed him! Yolanda… I know I’ll never get your forgiveness, but I swear, I just want revenge for my uncle! It hurts so much–everything feels fake, everything’s messed up. My head’s
tearing itself apart!”
It was
insane–the guy Eric hated most actually gave a damn about him, while Mark, the one person he thought might redeem him, had been lying to his face the whole time.
His mom was gone, his uncle was gone, and now–honestly–who would even care about him now? Not even the dogs would bother with someone like him.
They seemed to be beseeching the stars to bear witness to the promise that had been dispersed by the wind and to await the final day when that promise was fulfilled.
A short while later, Hazel put away the helicopter and went downstairs with Lorrayne.
Rose Castle was massive. It was divided into three areas, each with its own tower. The individual towers were all linked by passageways suspended high in the air.
Hazel stayed in the central area while Lorrayne stayed in the lower area. They bade each other farewell on the passageway and returned to their respective dorms.
March came to an end in the midst of persistently gloomy, drizzling rain.
With April’s arrival, the barren hills on the outskirts turned into a sea of lush greenery. In the mulberry garden, the young mulberry saplings cast off their protective straw blankets and extended their fresh green leaves to greet the warm sunshine and nourishing spring rain.
In the backyard of Starrowe Cottage, the compost was finally ready. At Lorrayne’s request, the workers had raked it apart to ensure that the cow dung had decomposed to form a crumbly texture with a rich, earthy smell.
Now it was time to plow the earth for wheat planting.
Early April was just right for planting spring wheat. Bella had already selected a few different types of wheat seeds at Lorrayne’s request.
Various types, including those with tall stems, short stems, long ears, thick husks, etc., were put through the respective selection and treatment processes to weed out the shriveled and diseased grains.
It only took three months for the spring wheat to ripen and be ready for harvesting. Though it had a short growing cycle, seeding half a month earlier would have achieved better vernalization.
Nonetheless, it wasn’t too late to plant now. Lorrayne issued instructions beside the field as the workers tilled the field and spread the compost.
“Make sure you plow at least eight inches deep. Then add a layer of earth on top. The spacing in between each row should be…”
Lorrayne tried her best to recall what she had learned in her previous life and explain it in simple terms to the workers.
After she was done with the experimental plots, Lorrayne headed to the ceramics factory for a look.
The merchant who visited Eskray Dessert House last year to inquire about the ceramics business came twice this year. Troy did some investigation and found out the merchant’s name was Tim Swift. He hailed from a tiny principality down south and was born into an aristocratic family that had declined. His father was a
Chapter 203
baron, but the title would be handed down to his older brother,
Tim was well–known in all the major cities as a collector who sourced for rare and unusual goods to sell at high prices to the well–connected Highborn families in the cities. Folks said he had a good reputation
Lorrayne had earlier indicated to Theresa that it was fine to strike a deal with this particular merchant and let him sell the ceramics they produced.
Each of their white porcelain plates was priced at one gold coin, but Tim had to handle the packaging and shipping himself. When Tim arrived, he agreed to the deal without a second thought.
Tim was ambitious. He placed an order for a thousand sets of bowls, plates, and soup spoons at once. The workers had been working overtime at the ceramics factory to meet the deadline.
Troy was just as busy, flying out to the west coast on his griffin to source for porcelain clay and kaolin.
The heat from the kiln was scorching, and Lorrayne could feel sweat dripping off her body as she stood nearby. She had a quick check of the factory before returning to the academy.
On the academy campus, everyone was discussing heatedly next month’s Magic Tournament.
“Hey, have you heard? This year, St. Tenorsey Academy is coming to Syrria too. It’s not just the usual top ten academies!” a student gushed.
“St. Tenorsey Academy? I thought the Holy Curia declared that they won’t participate in secular contests?” another asked.
“They didn’t say that. They were just too arrogant and did not want to lower themselves to participate in the earlier ones,” someone answered.
“Then why are they participating this year?”
“It was Prince Alfred’s suggestion. He said the Holy Curia exists to help people who are struggling out here in the real world, and its members should not remain so lofty and unapproachable. So he suggested that even students of theological institutions should come out into the real world and participate in the Magic Tournament,” someone explained.
“Prince Alfred is the best!”
“Yeah, he’s the most down–to–earth of all the nine princes. I really hope he becomes the next pope,” someone else chimed in.
“Prince Alfred has the most support. He will definitely get elected to be the next pope!”
Lorrayne was eavesdropping on the chatter around her when Winnie came running to her, her cheeks flushed with excitement. “Ms. Lorrayne!”
“Winnie? Why are you in such a hurry?” Lorrayne asked.
Winnie pulled out a tattered rag from her pocket and said with some embarrassment, “I just got a reply from home. They have agreed to visit me in Syrria!”
200
“That’s great! I’m so happy for you!” Lorrayne said with a laugh. “Once they’re here, they’ll finally stop trying to marry you off. When are they coming, by the way? I will get the staff to prepare two guest rooms.
“Oh, it’s not necessary. I can’t keep imposing on you,” Winnie demurred quickly. “I have already booked an inn for them. They’ll be fine there.”
Lorrayne objected at once. “It’s no trouble at all. The Magic Tournament is around the corner, and Syrria will be packed. Inns aren’t exactly safe with all these crowds. It’s better to let your family stay at my place.
“But…” Winnic hesitated.
“No buts! We’re friends, after all. Surely you won’t turn down a small gesture like that from me?” Lorrayne insisted.
Winnie was so moved that her eyes glistened with tears. “Ms. Lorrayne, thank you!”
“If you really want to thank me, then work hard to become an Arcane Swordbearer as soon as you can. Who knows, maybe someday I’ll need you to protect me,” Lorrayne said half in jest as she gently dabbed at Winnie’s tears with her own handkerchief.
Winnie also declared with conviction, “Ms. Lorrayne, when I become an Arcane Swordbearer, I swear to be your bodyguard and ensure that nothing will harm you!”
“Gosh, there’s no need to swear! Do you still consider me your friend?” Lorrayne protested with a stern face.
“Yes, yes, yes, of course! You’re my best friend!” Winnie blurted out.
Lorrayne’s eyes twinkled cheerfully. “Alright, tell me. When are your parents coming?”
Winnie unfolded the tattered rag and peered at the circles and crosses scribbled on it. “They, uh… they have to plant the peas and the wheat first before coming. Oh, and this… er… this is the pig pen. They have to wait for the piglets to be born, too. So I guess they won’t be able to leave until almost the end of this month.
“It’s a seven or eight–day trip from our village to Syrria, so when they set out, they probably won’t be here until the very end of the month,” Winnie concluded.
She had sent a letter home at the end of February, but her family said they wouldn’t come. She sent two more letters in March, and only then did they agree to come visit.
However, the period of March and April was a busy farming season. Therefore, her family could only delay their trip until near the end of the season.
“That’s a long journey… Where’s your village? Is it very far from Syrria?” Lorrayne asked.
“Mm–hmm. It’s quite far. It’s way up north of Syrria, about 180 miles away,” Winnie replied.
“180 miles isn’t that far. Why do they need seven or eight days?” Lorrayne thought to herself that even the slowest horse could still cover 50 miles a day as she gave Winnie a quizzical look.
Winnie lowered her head and mumbled, “They don’t know how to ride horses. They will be walking all the way here.”
Chapter 203
baron, but the title would be handed down to his older brother.
Tim was well–known in all the major cities as a collector who sourced for rare and unusual goods to sell at high prices to the well–connected Highborn families in the cities. Folks said he had a good reputation,
Lorrayne had earlier indicated to Theresa that it was fine to strike a deal with this particular merchant and let him sell the ceramics they produced.
Each of their white porcelain plates was priced at one gold coin, but Tim had to handle the packaging and shipping himself. When Tim arrived, he agreed to the deal without a second thought.
Tim was ambitious. He placed an order for a thousand sets of bowls, plates, and soup spoons at once. The workers had been working overtime at the ceramics factory to meet the deadline.
Troy was just as busy, flying out to the west coast on his griffin to source for porcelain clay and kaolin.
The heat from the kiln was scorching, and Lorrayne could feel sweat dripping off her body as she stood nearby. She had a quick check of the factory before returning to the academy.
On the academy campus, everyone was discussing heatedly next month’s Magic Tournament.
“Hey, have you heard? This year, St. Tenorsey Academy is coming to Syrria too. It’s not just the usual top ten academies!” a student gushed.
“St. Tenorsey Academy? I thought the Holy Curia declared that they won’t participate in secular contests?” another asked.
“They didn’t say that. They were just too arrogant and did not want to lower themselves to participate in the earlier ones,” someone answered.
“Then why are they participating this year?”
“It was Prince Alfred’s suggestion. He said the Holy Curia exists to help people who are struggling out here in the real world, and its members should not remain so lofty and unapproachable. So he suggested that even students of theological institutions should come out into the real world and participate in the Magic Tournament,” someone explained.
“Prince Alfred is the best!”
“Yeah, he’s the most down–to–earth of all the nine princes. I really hope he becomes the next pope,” someone else chimed in.
“Prince Alfred has the most support. He will definitely get elected to be the next pope!”
Lorrayne was eavesdropping on the chatter around her when Winnie came running to her, her cheeks flushed with excitement. “Ms. Lorrayne!”
“Winnie? Why are you in such a hurry?” Lorrayne asked.
Winnie pulled out a tattered rag from her pocket and said with some embarrassment, “I just got a reply from home. They have agreed to visit me in Syrria!”
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.
