Chapter 7N
“As long as I can be with you, I don’t care if we live in a trash heap. But our child… Our child is innocent, Michael.”
“If Ashlyn truly loved you, she would accept our baby as her own. Not deliberately sabotage your grandfather’s birthday banquet, humiliating you and the Hudson family in front of everyone!“W
‘A woman like her-“N
Before Daniela could finish spewing her grievances, Michael–his expression cold and unreadable–cut her off sharply, “And what right do you have to judge my wife?”
“Daniela, I once thought you were sensible. But now it’s clear–you’ve completely forgotten your place.“N
Taking the boarding pass from the staff, Michael looked down at her with an icy gaze. “No matter how many children I may have outside, Ashlyn will always be my only wife.“N
“Also, when you move out of the villa, make sure to take all your belongings with you. I don’t want Ashlyn to come home and be upset again because she sees a single trace of you.“N
Daniela stood frozen, tears streaming down her face. She watched him walk away and let out a bitter laugh through her sobs.N
“Ha… Michael, I never thought you’d be even more naïve than me.“N
“You’ve hurt Ashlyn so deeply–do you really think she’ll ever come back to you?“N
There was a saying that no one knew a woman like another woman, but Michael, striding away with determined steps, didn’t take her words to heart at all.
He knew his wife..
For the past nine years, no matter how angry Ashlyn got, all it ever took was a sincere apology and a few gifts she liked, and she would soften.N
But even he had to admit–this time was different.N
This time, she was angry enough to send him divorce papers.N
No ordinary gift would cut it.N
After much deliberation, Michael, the moment he landed abroad, found a local tattoo parlor.N
He took out a drawing that Ashlyn had once sent him five years ago–a design she had sketched herself–and handed it to the tattoo artist,
“I’m in a hurry. No anesthesia.”
Seven hours later, he walked out of the tattoo shop, blood staining his white shirt.
Unfazed, he bought a gift worth tens of millions, and 999 pure white roses.N
Nearly 48 hours without sleep, Michael drove himself straight to a vineyard estate on the outskirts of London.
On the highway, he rehearsed the apology he’d constructed perfectly in his head–again and again.
No matter how he played it out, the first words he would say to her were always the same.
“Ashlyn, I missed you so much.”
And finally, after crossing oceans and making countless sacrifices–he finally found her.
However, the moment his eyes landed on her, the bouquet of roses slipped from his hands.
Bathed in golden sunset light, Ashlyn stood nestled in the arms of a tall, strikingly handsome man.
There was a smile on her face–a soft, unburdened expression he had never seen before.
She laughed as she flirted with the man, the two of them feeding each other sweet, freshly picked grapes. Michael never got to say those rehearsed words.
He just stood there, frozen, and asked the only question his mind could process.
“Who is he?”
Sensing Ashlyn’s body tense slightly, the man beside her–Bryson–tightened his hold around her waist.N
“You must be Michael, right? I’ve seen your wedding photo with Ashlyn.”
“Tch. I didn’t expect you to look even worse in real life.”
Seeing Ashlyn giggle at Bryson’s teasing, the tension draining from her body, Michael felt as if something had punched him hard- straight in the chest.
He clenched his fists so tightly his nails dug into his palms, drawing blood.
“Since you came all this way, I’ll be polite and introduce myself,” Bryson said, “I’m Bryson, Ashlyn’s-”
“Bryson?” Michael cut him off. “Got it.”
