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Chapter 59: Oh, Anastasia. How Did It Come To This?
Last Updated:
2024-07-05 08:00:12
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Last Updated : 2024-11-30The Unwanted Wife Chapter 63: You're Killing Us Both
The moment he was gone, I faced Regan, my anger rising to meet his. Pulling my hand free, I marched past him and into the house, slamming the door shut behind me."What was that Anastasia?!" Regan bellowed, his voice echoing through the hallway. "Are you having an affair with him now?!"His accusation stung, but it was the fear in his voice that truly confused me. "You're insane," I spat back, whirling around to face him."Insane?!" he roared. "You're the one who's lost your mind! Don't you realize what people will say if they find out? It'll be all over the tabloids – 'Anastasia cheating with some low-life chef!'"And that was my last straw. Fueled by long-suppressed emotions, I did something I never thought I'd do – I slapped him. Hard.The sound echoed in the vast emptiness of the foyer. I stood there, trembling with anger. "Don't you dare compare me to you, Regan I'm not cheating on anyone."“Do you expect me to just accept that?!”“Are you afraid of your own ghost?”He re
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The morning light filtered through the curtains, too bright and too cruel for someone like me. I groaned softly as I woke up on the couch in one of the guest rooms, my neck stiff and my body aching from the awkward position I had slept in. I had no courage to see Regan last night.A soft knock pulled me from my thoughts. “Come in,” I managed, my voice hoarse.The door creaked open to reveal Susan, one of the maids.“Good morning, Miss”I sat up slowly, running a hand through my tangled hair. “Morning, Susan.”“There’s someone looking for you. One of Mr. Regan’s business associates” “Tell them I’ll contact them later”Susan nodded, stepping back toward the door. “Very well, Miss.”Just as she reached for the handle, I stopped her. “Susan,” I called softly, my throat dry. “Where’s Regan?”Her pause was telling. “Sir Regan left early this morning. He didn’t say where he was going.”Of course, he did. I swallowed the lump in my throat, nodding stiffly. “Thank you, Susan.”She lingered f
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The car door slammed shut, and I hesitated for a moment, glancing at the towering gates in front of me. My heart thudded painfully against my ribcage, but I forced myself to take a deep breath. Marianne was already walking ahead of me.I stepped out of the car. My eyes swept over the grand estate. Marianne was leading me into the house, but I felt a disconnect like I was walking into a place I didn’t belong.I adjusted my red dress. The fabric clung to my body, creating the illusion of confidence, of control. It was bold, daring even. I thought of it as my armor, a way to hide the weakness that had been creeping through my veins for the past week. The dress, a tight-fitting, satin fabric, shimmered slightly under the light, cut just above my knees. The hemline was sharp and clean. It was a fiery red, the kind of color that demanded attention. The deep red mimicked the color of my lips.Marianne glanced over her shoulder, giving me a nod of approval as she led me inside, her heels cli
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The women around the table giggled, a high-pitched, practiced sound that filled the room. The blonde woman, who had commented earlier, leaned in.“Oh, I must say, your stepmother has always had an eye for fashion,” she commented, eyeing my red dress. “She’s always been the one to make everything look effortlessly chic.”Marianne smiled at the compliment, her lips curling upward, though I could see the flicker of something dark in her eyes as she glanced at me. It was brief, but it was there.“Well, it’s not all me. Anastasia certainly knows how to shock us all, doesn’t she?” She turned toward me, her eyes narrowing just slightly as she added, “She’s always been quite the surprise.”The comment surprised me, and I could feel the eyes of the women around the table shift, their interest piqued. I kept my gaze steady, refusing to let any of the unease bubbling in my chest show on my face.“Yes,” one of the other women, a brunette with perfectly manicured nails, chimed in, “It’s so rare to
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The Unwanted Wife Chapter 135: Ava
A flood of emails greeted me first—formal messages from the foundation, updates on business reports I hadn't had the energy to care about. Then, a few news articles—headlines about society events, political scandals—none of them touching my world anymore.I swiped idly through them, my mind elsewhere, my body still fighting the lingering nausea.Then I saw it.One message stood out among the floods.A simple text, from a name I hadn’t seen in months but had been waiting for without even realizing it.Ava Ramos.My assistant. My friend.She had taken a six-month leave to care for her mother abroad, but even from halfway across the world, Ava had still managed to handle the details of my business life better than anyone else could. She didn’t just work for me—she stood by me. Without judgment. Without condition.I opened the message with trembling fingers.Ava:Miss A, Just wanted to let you know my l
The Unwanted Wife Chapter 134: Peaceful
The morning light spilled into the room in soft, golden streaks, coaxing me awake. I stirred beneath the light linen sheets; my body slow to move. The nausea hit me almost immediately. A wave of dizziness and discomfort churned in my stomach, forcing me to squeeze my eyes shut for a moment before carefully sitting up.The clock on the nightstand blinked back at me—7:08 AM.“Ugh” I groaned, swinging my legs over the side of the bed, my bare feet touching the cool marble floor. I sat there for a moment, breathing through the nausea, pressing a hand gently against my still-flat stomach.Almost six weeks of being two people instead of one.And somehow, it already felt like my entire body had shifted. My chest tightened at the thought, and I forced myself to sit up straighter, blinking against the dizzying morning light streaming through the tall windows. I reached for the robe hanging loosely over the nearby armchair—a light ivory silk robe with delicate lace
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“After Alisha died, the bond between our families… frayed. Your uncles—especially Alvaro—blamed Gregory. Maybe not for her death directly, but for the way she lived before it. For the silence. For the sadness that started showing behind her eyes.”I drew a sharp breath. I’d always known something was… strained between the Montreals and the Saavedras. Even as a child, I could feel the tension, though no one ever spoke of it.Don Alonso’s voice dropped lower, his tone thickening with something heavy. Not just memory—guilt.“After Alisha died, the bond between our families… frayed. Your uncles—especially Alvaro—blamed your father—Gregory. For her death directly, for the way she lived before it. For the silence. For the sadness that started showing behind her eyes.”His words struck something sharp and cold inside me. My hands freezing in place on my lap. I had always known, deep down, that there was a quiet rift between the Montreals and the Saavedras. It wa
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There was a long pause between us.The kind that didn’t feel uncomfortable—just… heavy with things unsaid.We sat quietly, staring out at the garden bathed in the warm light of late afternoon. The hedges rustled softly as the breeze moved through them, carrying the scent of blooming roses and sun-warmed grass. A few loose petals floated gently across the stones. Birds chirped high in the trees.I reached for my teacup, the porcelain smooth and cool against my fingertips. I brought it to my lips and took a slow sip. The taste was soft—chamomile and lemon—meant to be calming. But instead of comfort, all I felt was the bitter knot in my chest, untouched by warmth.I set the cup down carefully, the clink of porcelain against porcelain sounding too loud in the stillness.Then, finally, Don Alonso spoke.“Have any of the Saavedras contacted you?”I blinked, confused.The Saavedras. My mother’s family.I frowned, turning toward
The Unwanted Wife Chapter 131: Montreal
Morgan paused—and then, to my surprise, he bowed. Low.“Don Alonso.”My breath caught, and I instinctively stood up from my seat. Through the ivy-laced arch, a tall figure emerged, walking with the quiet dignity of age and command. He wore a dark coat despite the mild weather, his silver hair swept back neatly, and a cane tapping softly with every step he took.My grandfather.“Mr. Morgan. Always a pleasure.”“Likewise, sir.” Morgan’s voice held deep respect.And then he passed by him, leaving us.My eyes locked with my grandfather’s. He stopped a few feet away from me. It felt like I hadn’t seen him in so long.“Grandpa,” I breathed, my voice catching as I stepped forward.And without thinking, I stepped forward—arms wrapping around him, carefully but tightly.He didn’t hesitate. He held me back.Not just a pat on
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The sun hung low in the sky, casting a golden glow over the sprawling garden. A gentle breeze rustled through the leaves, carrying the scent of fresh blooms and damp earth. Birds chirped softly in the distance. I sat at the elegant wrought-iron table in the heart of the garden, my hands resting lightly in my lap. Sunlight filtered through the treetops, dappling the white tablecloth with shifting patches of light and shadow. The air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of jasmine, one of the many flowers my mother had once loved.I hadn’t stepped out into the garden for a long time, not like this. Not dressed in anything but red, that reflected the armor I had carried for so long. But today… today was different.I wore pink. Baby pink.It felt strange, almost foreign against my skin—soft, light, alive. I wasn’t sure why I had chosen it. Maybe because Susan had left it out for me, or maybe because I wanted to see if I could still feel something.Across from
The Unwanted Wife Chapter 128: Advice
I lowered my teacup slowly, setting it back on the saucer. My eyes dropped to my lap, where the soft pink fabric of my dress pooled gently, but all I could feel was the rising pressure in my chest.I need to say it.I need to say it.I had practiced the words. Over and over in my mind. But now, with him sitting across from me, waiting, I found myself choking on them.Still, I had to say it.I raised my gaze, meeting his eyes.“Mr. Morgan…” I began, and my voice cracked almost instantly. I cleared my throat, forcing steadiness I didn’t feel. “I need your advice.”He leaned in slightly, the air shifting around us, his expression attentive and calm. “Of course, Miss Anastasia.”“I need to know the legal consequences...” I paused, drawing in a shaky breath, “...of filing for divorce.”The words landed between us like a stone dropped into still water. Morgan blinked, his composure briefly slipping. His brows
The Unwanted Wife Chapter 130: Right Way?
“We don’t have to go that far unless we need to,” Morgan said, his voice measured, his tone sharpening with conviction. “But if ever Regan decides to make a move—if he dares to use the fact that you kept the child from him as a weapon to demand custody—then we fight. With everything we have. The point is—you’re not defenseless, Miss Anastasia. You don’t have to run and hide in shame.”I looked down at my lap, my fingers twisting into the fabric of my dress. The breeze picked up softly, fluttering the edges of the tablecloth, and I found my voice just above a whisper.“I’m not running to hide,” I said, voice trembling. “I’m running to protect what he wanted to throw away.”“Then we build your wall before he even reaches the gate,” he said, more firmly now. “All we need is evidence. Records. Messages. Witnesses, if necessary.” He paused, eyes narrowing thoughtfully. “Did anyone hear him say it? About wanting you to abort the child?”I looked away, my
The Unwanted Wife Chapter 127: Inheritance
I exhaled softly, gathering my thoughts. I had spent the past week thinking about this—turning it over in my mind, debating, hesitating. I had run through the possibilities, the consequences, and the emotions tied to it.Was I strong enough? Brave enough? Was I really ready to let go of the past that had defined so much of me?I didn’t have all the answers.But what I did have now was a reason.A life growing inside me. A heartbeat that depended on mine. And that alone was enough.I had to move forward. I had to choose strength. I had to choose survival.For my baby.Morgan must have sensed my hesitation, because he set his cup down, his keen gaze watching me closely, but before he could ask me, I finally broke the silence."I know you must be thinking that I didn’t call you just for tea or to chat."A knowing smile crossed his lips. "That I am."I took a deep breath, straightening in my seat. My
