Todos os capítulos de The Unwanted Wife: Capítulo 91 - Capítulo 100

I looked away, trying to focus on another guest who had come to speak with us. The woman, a socialite named Mrs. Harrison, was animatedly discussing their latest charity event."Anastasia, you simply must join us next month. It’s for a wonderful cause. We’re raising funds for children’s hospitals.""That sounds lovely. I’ll see if I can make it."Meanwhile, Regan seemed distracted, his eyes constantly darting around the room. He barely acknowledged Mrs. Harrison’s husband, who was talking about his new business venture."...and that’s why we’re investing heavily in renewable energy," Mr. Harrison was saying. "It’s the future, don’t you agree, Regan?"Regan snapped back to attention. "Yes, absolutely," He glanced at me, then back at the door.Mrs. Harrison looked at Regan with concern. "You seem a bit preoccupied, Mr. Del Valle. Is everything all right?"Regan cleared his throat, his face flushing slightly. "I apologize, Mrs. Harrison. Just a lot on my mind at the moment. Excuse me fo

A flicker of movement on the edge of the stage caught my eye. The band members exchanged confused glances. Then, a familiar face emerged from the shadows – the old man from my music school, his kind eyes crinkled in a smile that held a lifetime of understanding. It was a small gesture, but it was enough.Tears welled up in my eyes, blurring my vision. Taking a deep breath, I raised my trembling hands and hovered them over the cool ivory keys. The music book in front of me lay open, displaying the familiar score of "Moonlight Sonata."In that moment, guided by the raw ache in my heart, I began to play. The first notes were hesitant. But as I poured my emotions into the music, the pain of loving Regan, the bitter sting of betrayal, a transformation began to take place. The gasps of surprise from the audience, the almost imperceptible click of hundreds of cameras capturing the moment – all faded into the background.Tears streamed down my cheeks; each note a raw expression of the pain I

Sheila’s POVThe door to the operating room swung open with a soft hiss, releasing a waft of sterile air tinged with antiseptic. I stepped out, still clad in green scrubs, my hands trembling faintly from the adrenaline of the past hours. Tugging off the blue net cap, I raked a hand through my sweat-damp hair, my chest tightening as the weight of what just happened began to settle in."Dr. Cortez," a nurse called out as she hurried toward me. "The patient's family is here waiting outside."I froze, my brow furrowing. "Family? Are you sure about that?" My voice came out sharper than I intended, the lingering edge of fear and exhaustion bleeding through.It wasn’t uncommon for patients to arrive at the hospital without anyone. But Anastasia... Anastasia’s world was complicated. Her family was complicated."Yes, Doctor," she replied softly, her eyes glancing briefly at the operating room doors behind me. "They're asking about her condition."My heart thudded painfully in my chest, the gho

Sheila's POVA few hours crawled by each tick of the clock an agonizing reminder of the danger Anastasia was in. Finally, word reached me that she'd been moved to a special private room. Soft lighting cast a warm glow on the plush furniture, and a vase filled with fresh flowers sat on a table beside the bed.Pushing open the door, I found a kind-faced nurse monitoring the readings on a nearby machine. "Excuse me," I said softly. "Can you tell me if—""Dr. Sheila, I presume?" she interrupted gently, a knowing smile on her lips. "Yes, Miss Anastasia is resting comfortably now."I nodded my thanks. Walking over to the bed, I gazed down at my best friend. Anastasia looked pale and fragile. Tears welled up in my eyes, blurring my vision. Reaching out, I took her hand in mine, its coolness sending a shiver down my spine. "Hey, Tasia," I whispered. Even though I knew she couldn't hear me, the words tumbled out."Please wake up," I pleaded, my voice breaking. "I have something to tell y

After a restless night, I finally tore myself away from Anastasia's bedside and went home to my condo. Exhaustion gnawed at me, and I knew I needed a change of clothes and a decent cup of coffee to function. Pulling off the scrubs, I traded them for a pair of comfy jeans and a loose-fitting t-shirt. With a quick caffeine fix in mind, I headed to a nearby 24/7 diner. These late-night havens were a godsend. Sliding into a booth, I nursed a strong cup of coffee, the bitter brew jumpstarting my foggy brain.The first rays of dawn were just peeking over the horizon as I returned to the hospital. Entering Anastasia's room, I froze in surprise. There, perched on a chair beside the bed, sat a woman I recognized all too well – Anastasia's stepmother, Marianne. She was a woman of striking beauty. But something in her makes me feel intimidated and that was new to my vocabulary. I seldom got intimidated. Anastasia was the one person who could truly get under this woman’s skin."She does n