The downpour intensified over the next twenty minutes. Yolanda shrugged out of her coat, revealing a fitted white blouse that clung to her frame. The room felt stifling suddenly, or maybe it was just her rising anxiety.
An overnight stay would create complications she couldn’t afford. Not in two years had she slept anywhere but home. She reached for her phone, dialing Megan to coordinate their alibis before Charles could start asking uncomfortable questions.
Megan sounded puzzled. “Didn’t Ian tell you it was so far? I warned him.”
“He must’ve forgotten. He’s at the read–through now.” Yolanda watched rain streak the glass. “It’s a four–hour drive in this kind of rain. By the time I get back, it’ll be so late. Charles will definitely notice.”
“Charles?” Megan snorted. “That man’s probably balls–deep in his mistress right now.”
Yolanda forced a smile. The heat crawling up her neck wasn’t just from the stuffy room. She guessed maybe she’d run a fever.
She ended the call just as the door clicked open. However, it wasn’t Ian. Wayne slinked inside, predatory glee lighting his face. “Looks like the medicine’s kicking in, sweetheart. Here I am.”
Her stomach twisted. Before she could react, he was already moving toward her. “What the hell are you doing?” she snapped, her voice sharp despite the fog in her head.
Wayne’s eyes gleamed with anticipation. Up close, she was even more breathtaking than he’d imagined. ‘No wonder Ian keeps her around,‘ he thought, ‘He has a good taste.‘
“Helping you, obviously,” he said, feigning innocence. “You must be feeling pretty rough right now, huh?”
Rough was an understatement, but Yolanda grabbed the nearest thing–a heavy vase–and swung. “Get out!” she shouted.
But he caught her wrist easily. The drugs had sapped her strength, and he was far stronger.
“Face it, no one’s coming to save you,” he taunted. “Ian’s too busy with Sophie to care. But don’t worry. After tonight, you’ll be mine. And trust me, I’ll treat you right.”
At the entrance to the hall, Sophie did block lan. In her eyes, she was already a rising star – far above some nobody like him. The fact that she was even bothering to speak to him was a privilege he should be grateful for.
Her chin lifted in that imperious way she’d perfected. “We need to talk,” she commanded.
11:36 Wed, Sep 10
Chapter 30
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Ian took one look at her smug expression and shouldered past without breaking stride.
“Keep walking and my boyfriend blacklists you,” she shrieked after him.
He didn’t turn. Since she had just been with Wayne, acting sneaky, Ian assumed they must be playing some games.
*****
When Ian reached his room, a loud crash came from inside. He shoved the door open to find Yolanda gripping a stool, while Wayne groaned on the floor, clutching his head.
Seeing Ian, Yolanda dropped the stool and sagged against the wall, breathing hard.
Without hesitation, Ian hauled Wayne up and threw him out, then slammed and locked the door behind him.
Sweat beaded on Yolanda’s forehead. She’d been holding herself together, but now she slumped into the corner, her voice weak. “Ian…”
He crossed the room in a few strides, lifting her onto the bed. Her flushed cheeks told him she’d been drugged.
Her head spun, vision blurring. Every inch of her ached.
Ian soaked a towel in cold water and pressed it to her face. The coolness soothed her, and she clung to his wrist, fingers tightening around his. He stilled, meeting her clouded gaze.
Outside, rain lashed against the windows. Inside, the air was thick with tension. Then her phone buzzed and the screen lit up with Charles’s name.
Gently, Ian pulled his hand back and resumed wiping her face, silent.
But Yolanda sat up suddenly, wrapping her arms around his neck. “I’m burning up,” she murmured, her breath hot against his ear.
He stiffened, and then turned his face away, hesitating before dabbing her cheek again with the damp towel.
For a brief moment, clarity flickered in her eyes. She fumbled for the nightstand. “Water… I need-” She took a sip but remained dazed, sweat still glistening on her skin.
As Ian leaned over to set the bottle down, she seized his collar. Her lips crashed into his- sweet, desperate, and wild as the storm outside. “I’m burning. Help me,” she pleaded.
Ian froze before slowly pushing her back. “There’s a bathtub. I’ll get a cold bath for you.”
11:36 Wed, Sep 10
Chapter 30
75
55 vouchers
He turned toward the bathroom, but a burning touch stopped him. Her hand clutched his wrist, fever–hot. The contact sent electricity up his arm. Before he could react, she yanked him back by his collar.
Her palms framed his face as she kissed him hungrily. He didn’t reciprocate, sensing her frantic need.
Finally, he turned toward the rain–streaked window, voice rough. “Don’t do this.”
“Stop hiding,” she whispered against his lips.
“You’re not thinking straight,” he said. “I can’t—”
Her grip on his fingers tightened. He exhaled sharply. “Let me help another way, okay?”
Her cheeks burned crimson as she buried her face in his neck, inhaling his crisp, earthy scent.
His hand hovered at her waist, waiting. Thunder rumbled outside. He looked down, conflict darkening his eyes.
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.
