All Chapters of The Forgotten Marriage: Chapter 211 - Chapter 220

GREECEThe lecture hall felt suffocating despite its size. Professor Williams droned on about corporate law, but my mind was elsewhere, wandering back to memories of Mexico City – memories I couldn't seem to shake no matter how hard I tried. It had been a month since I'd returned, since Colson had practically forced me onto that plane, and yet everything still felt fresh. Raw.The scent of his cologne. The intensity of his gaze. The way his hands felt when they caught me from falling. The almost-kiss on the balcony that still haunted my dreams."Miss Stavros?" Professor Williams's voice cut through my reverie. "Care to share your thoughts on the Jensen case?"I straightened in my seat, forcing myself to focus on the present. "The Jensen case highlighted the importance of fiduciary duty in corporate governance," I began, drawing on whatever information I could remember from last night's reading. "The board's decision to..."As I continued my response, I couldn't help but notice how dif

The night air was cool against my skin as I stepped out of the hospital, fishing my phone out of my purse to order another Uber. The parking lot was mostly empty, illuminated by scattered streetlights that created pools of yellow light in the darkness. The sound of rapid footsteps behind me made my heart jump, but before I could turn around, I heard his voice."Greece!"Just one word. My name. But the way Colson said it made something inside me twist. I turned to find him slightly out of breath, as if he'd run to catch up with me. The sight of him – powerful, composed Colson – actually running after someone was so unexpected that for a moment, I could only stare."What are you doing here?" I asked, hating how my voice betrayed my awareness of him. Even in the dim light, he was devastating – the shadows playing across his features only emphasized the sharp angles of his face, the intensity of his gaze."It's too dark for you to be out alone," he said, his tone still carrying that profe

The argument replayed in my mind like a broken record, each harsh word cutting deeper with each repetition. ‘All you see is your own pain.’ The accusation stung particularly sharp because it was untrue. I'd spent weeks trying to understand Roman's pain, making excuses for his absence, convincing myself that his distance was just his way of coping. And now he had the audacity to throw that in my face? That son of a– My phone felt heavy in my pocket. I could call Jessica, or Alexander—they'd be here in minutes. But what would I say? That my husband, the man who'd been my rock through everything, had just revealed a side of himself I'd never seen before? That he was keeping secrets about who had poisoned me? Instead, I did something I hadn't dared since being discharged; I walked upstairs to the nursery door. My hand trembled as it touched the doorknob. We'd painted it white just two weeks ago, discussing whether we should add some kind of decorative element. Roman had wanted to pai

BERTHAI stared at my reflection in the large vanity mirror, my fingers trembling with barely contained rage as I adjusted the diamond pendant around my neck. The weight of it felt suffocating, much like everything else in this oppressive fucking mansion. The warm golden light from the lamps above should have made me look radiant, but all I could see was the storm brewing in my dark eyes.Here in this mansion, I felt like a dolled up trinket, just kept here to look pretty, to bear a child that Yaakov can fully mold as he wants.The gala invitation lay mockingly on the corner of my vanity, its gold-embossed lettering catching the light. "Mr. and Mrs. Wellington," it read, as if I was supposed to feel honored to be attending as Yaakov Wellington's wife. I sneered at my reflection, watching as the expression twisted my carefully made-up features. The deep burgundy lipstick I'd chosen suddenly seemed too harsh against my pale skin, but it matched my mood perfectly.I had cut my hair short

Yaakov’s grand ballroom glittered with enough crystal and gold to make my fucking eyes burn with irritation, or maybe that was just the tension headache building behind my temples. Yaakov's hand pressed firmly against my lower back as he guided me through the crowd, his touch both possessive and protective. I could feel the weight of dozens of eyes following our movement across the polished marble floor.I wish I could say I could ignore the hostile and condescending glances, but it already had me on edge, along with Roman's threats. "Mrs. Wellington," they greeted me, one after another, their smiles not quite reaching their eyes. I played my part perfectly – the adoring young wife, one hand resting protectively over my swollen belly as I smiled and nodded and pretended I couldn't hear the whispers that followed in our wake."Can you believe she had the nerve to show up here?""...broke up his marriage to Victoria...""...lost the backing of the entire Richardson family because of he