Chapter 85
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The last comment was right: this trending topic has stayed hot for so long and nearly dominated the top five spots. lan’s name exploded, but the TV show he was filming with Zack White hasn’t even aired yet. Now the hype has completely dropped.
Yolanda only relaxed when she saw public opinion gradually shifting in her favor.
In fact, she could have reported it to the police right away, but she wanted the discussion to gain more traction by posting one comment at a time.
She lowered her lashes and smiled slightly. She had just logged into Ian’s Twitter account. Worried that the barrage of hateful comments would affect him, she hadn’t let him check Twitter these past few days.
Now that everything is over, she stood up, planning to check on him at the set, unsure if his injuries were
serious.
But just as she reached the studio door and was about to open it, a sudden force pushed against her from outside, nearly hitting her nose.
She instinctively stepped back and saw Greg, Megan’s husband, with a dark expression blocking the door, having locked it from the inside.
He didn’t come with good intentions.
One hand on the book on the table, she looked at him warily and asked, “What are you here for?”
Greg sneered and closed the distance step by step. “I’m here to get some money from Miss Grant. My wife said your husband is pretty rich.”
His eyes were bloodshot, obviously shaken by something.
He was on the edge of madness, and if she refused him, who knows what he might do.
Yolanda calmly took out her phone and asked, “How much do you need? For Megan’s sake, I’ll pay.”
Greg raised an eyebrow and then smiled sinisterly. “Miss Grant is definitely loaded, but my business is long- term. I need to hold something over you to feel safe. How about you lie down now and let me have my way? I’ll take some photos, so it’ll be easier to collect money from you later.”
He had already made up his mind, which is why he staked out here for the past few days.
Yolanda took a deep breath. She shouldn’t have given up so easily when her studio was turned upside down like that.
Greg didn’t want to waste words or cause trouble. As he unclasped his pants, he approached her. “Stop struggling. There’s no one else in the studio right now. If you behave, I might be a little nicer to you.”
Yolanda hurried to her office, where another door was locked.
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Chapter 85
But Dominic grabbed her hair and slammed her head against the wall.
“You bitch, I told you to stop struggling!”
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Yolanda winced in pain, dizzy and dazed. She reached for the nearby vase and smashed it behind her.
Dominic let out a scream. Taking advantage of him loosening his grip, she dashed into the office and locked the door behind her.
Greg snapped back and started pounding on the door.
“Come out, you bitch! Get out here! Come out!”
Yolanda kept a straight face but calmly took out her phone to call the police. She quickly gave her address and then spoke to Greg outside the door.
“I’ve already called the police. If you don’t want to get caught, you’d better leave now.”
Greg’s forehead was bleeding, surprised by how fast she reacted.
He unwillingly pounded on the door again, believing that if he could just sleep with Yolanda, he could threaten her!
Yolanda called Charles, but Jack answered, saying Charles was in a meeting.
She didn’t say much, hung up, and then called Ian.
She was holding a chair, standing by the door. In such an extreme situation, she grew increasingly calm.
Luckily, the door was made with sturdy materials and Greg couldn’t break through it quickly.
Her heart pounded loudly, and her palms gripping the chair leg were sweaty.
Fifteen minutes later, the noise outside grew louder, sounding like a window glass breaking, followed by two people struggling.
Yolanda Foster listened carefully, then slowly put down the stool, as if someone had arrived.
She opened the door and saw Ian pinning Greg down, pounding him repeatedly.
He already enjoyed boxing, and he hit Greg so hard that Greg almost passed out.
When Yolanda saw him, she felt relieved and quickly stepped forward, grabbing his fist. “Stop, Ian, enough.”
Jan’s knuckles were covered in fresh blood. He looked at her, confirmed she was okay, and then whispered, “That’s good.”
Yolanda’s eyes welled up, and she grabbed his shirt. “Get up, the police are coming.”
Just then, footsteps sounded outside, but it wasn’t the police because she heard Charles and Jack’s voices.
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Her heart skipped a beat, and she pushed him hurriedly. “Go hide.”
Ian suddenly leaned in and kissed her lips.
Yolanda’s heart raced even faster than before, and she was so shocked that her mind went blank.
But he only glanced at the tip of her tongue before quickly leaving.
The entire floor was filled with studios and many cubicles. He randomly picked one to hide in.
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The studio’s main door was still intact. Ian had broken the window to get in. Charles had just secured his position at the door when the police arrived.
Seven or eight people quickly gathered at the entrance.
Yolanda wiped her lips, her face pale. She grabbed a nearby stool, ready to smash it down on Greg the moment the door opened.
The police rushed forward to stop her. Seeing Greg’s battered state, one quickly said, “Miss Grant, if you keep hitting him, someone’s going to get seriously hurt.”
Yolanda shivered, clearly frightened. A clear light appeared in her eyes as she trembled and called out, “Honey.”
Her tears fell, lips pale, hair disheveled–she looked utterly pitiful.
That word, honey, made Charles’s heart skip a beat.
He lowered his lashes and stepped closer, pulling her into his arms. “Scared, huh?”
Yolanda’s tears fell harder, soaking his expensive suit fabric, leaving a wet patch.
“Mm, it’s good that you came.”
Charles’s hand gently patted her back. She rarely showed such vulnerability; most of the time, she was as stiff as a board.
Yolanda’s sobs were soft, her shoulders trembling lightly, whimpering like a fawn.
She whispered, “I want to go home.”
He softened his tone, which was rare for him, “Okay, let’s go back.”
After inspecting Greg’s injuries, the police frowned, “Wait a moment, Miss Grant, did you do all this?”
Some of the wounds didn’t look like they were caused by a chair.
“Yes, it was me. I’m sorry, I was really scared.”
She spoke as she hid in Charles’s arms.
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Charles tilted his head and kissed her on the cheek. Seeing her trembling in fear, he cupped her face and kissed her deeply in front of the police, entwining his tongue with hers.
Yolanda made muffled sounds and pounded on his chest.
He kissed her for half a minute, then told the police, “I’m taking my wife home.”
The police officer looked a bit awkward. “Uh, okay.”
Yolanda sniffled. “Keep me updated on any progress. This man is my friend’s husband. I don’t want others to know. Thanks for your help.”
After saying this, she snuggled into Charles’s arms.
In the next room, behind a potted plant, a pair of eyes kept watching her–watching her look so pitiful in that man’s arms, watching them kiss.
Watching her call him husband, watching her shy reaction when kissed.
His hand hanging at his side slowly clenched. He should’ve looked away, but he was watching so intently.
So intently that he noticed her swallowing when she kissed the other man.
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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.
