บททั้งหมดของ The Goddess of Divorce Made Me His Boss: บทที่ 71 - บทที่ 80

Bernard POVI stood outside Elena's penthouse apartment building, holding my suitcase and feeling like I had finally turned my life around. After weeks of living in that cramped apartment with Tracy, constantly worrying about money and watching my ex-wife succeed while I struggled, I was finally going to be with a woman who could give me the lifestyle I deserved.Elena had given me a key card to her private elevator, which made me feel important as I rode up to the top floor. This was how wealthy people lived, and soon I would be living this way too.The elevator doors opened directly into Elena's penthouse, and I whistled softly as I looked around. The place was incredible - floor-to-ceiling windows with views of the entire city, expensive furniture that probably cost more than I used to make in a year, and artwork on the walls that looked like it belonged in a museum."Bernard, you made it," Elena said, walking toward me in a silk robe that showed off her figure perfectly. At forty-

Elena POVI hung up the phone after my assistant confirmed that all the legal paperwork had been filed correctly. Bernard was now officially trapped in our business partnership, and more importantly, trapped in my penthouse. The call had been about finalizing the contract details, not some emergency like Bernard probably thought."Sorry about that interruption," I said to Bernard, who was standing awkwardly in my bedroom doorway. "Where were we?""Elena, about those house rules," Bernard started, his voice uncertain. "I think we should talk about making some adjustments. I'm not comfortable with asking permission for every little thing."I sat down on my silk-covered bed and patted the space next to me. "Come here, darling. Let's discuss this properly."Bernard walked over slowly, like a man approaching his own execution. When he sat down, I could see the tension in his shoulders and the worry in his eyes."What specifically is bothering you?" I asked sweetly."The credit card thing,

Bernard POV My phone rang at 6:30 in the morning while I was sitting in Elena's kitchen, eating the breakfast her chef had prepared. Elena was already dressed for work in a sharp business suit, reading emails on her tablet while sipping her coffee. When I saw my mother's name on the caller ID, my stomach dropped. Mom never called this early unless something was seriously wrong. "Hello?" I answered, trying to keep my voice calm. "Bernard, I need you to come to the hospital right away," my mother said, and I could hear fear in her voice that I had never heard before. "What happened? Are you hurt?" "Just come to Sacramento General Hospital, room 314. Come as fast as you can." The line went dead before I could ask any more questions. "I have to go," I said to Elena, standing up from the breakfast table. "My mother is in the hospital." Elena looked up from her tablet with mild interest. "Is it serious?" "I don't know. She sounded scared, which isn't like her." "Well, don't be go

Mrs. Fredrick POVThe charity ward of Sacramento General Hospital smelled like disinfectant and despair. I lay in my narrow bed, listening to the moans and cries of other patients who couldn't afford private rooms. The woman in the bed next to me had been coughing up blood for three days, and the man across the hall kept calling for his daughter who never came.This was where people came to die when they couldn't pay for decent medical care.It had been a week since I told Bernard about my cancer diagnosis. A week since he promised me he would take care of everything and figure out how to pay for my treatments. A week of waiting for him to call back with good news about insurance coverage or payment plans or some miracle solution.Instead, I got nothing. No phone calls, no visits, no updates about what he was doing to help me. The nurses kept asking about my family, about who they should contact for medical decisions, and I had to keep making excuses for why my only son wasn't here.

Tracy POVI stood at the back of Riverside Cemetery, watching them lower Mrs. Fredrick's cheap wooden casket into the ground. There were only five people at the funeral - me, the priest, two gravediggers, and an elderly woman I didn't recognize who said she was Dorothy's former neighbor.Bernard wasn't there.His own mother's funeral, and he couldn't be bothered to show up.I had paid for the service myself using the last eight hundred dollars from my savings account. Not because I loved Mrs. Fredrick - she had been cruel to me too many times for that - but because no one deserved to be buried like a homeless stranger with no family present.The priest spoke generic words about eternal rest and God's mercy while I thought about how Mrs. Fredrick had died alone in a charity hospital ward. Her son, who she had defended and supported her entire life, had abandoned her when she needed him most.Just like he had abandoned me."Would anyone like to say a few words?" the priest asked.I ste