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Abandoned Ex-Wife: Now Untouchable
My five-year-old daughter was dying in the ICU, her heartbeat replaced by the continuous, electronic scream of a flatline. I gripped her cold hand, my throat sealed shut by a terror so absolute I couldn't even cry out. I dialed my husband Grayson's private number, the one reserved only for me and his assistants. He declined the call instantly. A second later, a text buzzed against my palm: "In a meeting. Do not disturb. Stop calling." Five miles away, Grayson was at a luxury gala, adjusting his silk tie and laughing with Belle Escobar. He told her I was just being "dramatic" and using our daughter's "fever" as an excuse to avoid the event. He had no idea Effie's heart had already stopped. When I finally reached our penthouse, soaked from the rain and carrying Effie's small socks in a plastic bag, Grayson didn't even look at me. He snapped at me for ruining the hardwood floors and asked if I'd left Effie with the nanny just to "feel sorry for myself." Three days later, while I buried our daughter in a small, lonely ceremony, Grayson was at the Hamptons. Belle posted a photo of him golfing with the caption: "A mental health day with the boys." He didn't even attend the funeral, but he returned home demanding I clear out Effie's room to make a study for Belle's son. The injustice burned through me until there was nothing left. I swallowed a handful of sleeping pills, desperate to join my daughter. But instead of the darkness, I woke up to blinding lights and the scent of Grayson's expensive cologne. I was standing in a ballroom, wearing a blue silk dress I had already burned. Above me, a banner read: "Happy 5th Birthday Kaiden & Effie." I was back, exactly one year before the tragedy. This time, I wasn't going to be the grieving wife. I was going to be their worst nightmare.A "bang" sound.
The door of the villa was kicked open, and the maid, who was cleaning, got anxious, and looked nervously at the person coming in.
The man was already soaked, holding a comatose woman in his arms. Ignoring the eyes of others, he walked towards the bathroom step by step. As he moved gracefully, full drops of water dripped from the wet hair on his forehead to the woman's face, and then slowly hit the expensive floor along the corner of the woman's eyes.
"Williams ... Young Master Herbert Williams..." The maid stiffened.
Anyone who knew Herbert knew his taboos: women ... no, as long as they were heterosexual creatures, it was impossible to get close to him within one meter, not to mention holding a woman who was a wet and unconscious woman ...
There were so many women who didn't know their terrible consequences of getting close to Herbert, and she didn't dare to recall their endings.
It's just ... who was this woman now?
"Young Master Williams, let me do it."
Let her stand by and watch the young master wait for a woman to take a bath. This picture was so amazing that she dare not look at it! "Go out."Herbert's voice was cold, and it sounded terrifying.
After hearing the sound of opening and closing the door, Herbert's stern eyesight turned slightly soft.
Looking down at the woman in his arms, he became more tender and affectionate.
He took off the woman's pajamas and underwear which had already been soaked and then carefully placed her in a bath full of hot water, washing away the coldness of her body in person.
The woman's skin was fair, and there was a conspicuous scar across her waist. Herbert gazed at her from her waist to the pale corner of her mouth with his beautiful eyebrows wrinkled and wistful eyesight.
After a moment, he leaned down and gently kissed her pale and bloodless lips, gently sucking.
When the woman woke up, it was already noon the next day. Staring at the strange ceiling and sitting up in horror, she instantly felt a severe headache.
Shaking her head and looking at the strange clothes on her body, she jumped off the bed in surprise. However, her feet were so painful that she almost stumbled to fall down.
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CEO Husband, Behave Yourself
Being sexually harassed by her step father for a long time, Jenny Taylor, who could not bear it any longer, escaped from the family she had been living for thirteen years in a rainy night. She had nowhere to go but the orphanage where she grew up. Unfortunately, she passed out at the gate of the orp/0/24949/coverorgin.jpg?v=20250124155310&imageMogr2/format/webp)
