Semua Bab Heiress Return: Revenge Of The Crippled Ex-Wife: Bab 1 - Bab 10

Clarence’s POV. An hour later, I bit my lips in pain as I listened to the moans of my sister and husband coming from the secluded VIP bathroom in our estate. A domestic servant had helped me out of the house after finding me banging on the door of the living room. I begged them to bring me to this part of the estate, suspecting my husband was meeting my step-sister there and my suspicion turned out to be correct. The sound of his pleasure-filled cries brought back memories of my worst nights with him. He never touched me and was always repulsed by my disability. Instead, he'd masturbate, fearing that touching me would worsen the stiffness in my legs. "More, Damon, keep it coming, harder. Argh, I have missed you so much. What made me run away from you all these years? I love you," my sister Gina cried out in pleasure as their bodies continued to collide in a stronger rhythm - they weren't stopping anytime soon. "No one has made me feel the way you always do, Gina. I don't wa

Clarence’s POV. "Damon, you are joking. Aren't you?" I laughed nervously, trying not to accept those words that came out of his lips. "Do I look like I will ever joke with you?" he asked in irritation, sending shivers down my spine. "Why, Damon? It's been just three years since we got married. I had been nothing but good to you, and you have been the one who kept on hurting me, and I forgave you for everything. Why do you want a divorce?" I questioned him, trying to put the pieces together. But then I remembered Gina and my heart ached. She must be the one who instigated this. She was back, and getting Damon to divorce me was what she had always wanted. She knew that according to the principles of my family, if my marriage with Damon ended, I would lose everything including my position as the heiress and be tossed aside because none of us was allowed to fail in our marriage, in order not to taint the perfect, successful marriages of my family's history. "No, I can't accept t

Clarence’s POV. I didn’t realize how tense I was until the other doctor tapped lightly on the table, pulling me back to the present. For a second, I thought I was imagining things. Maybe my mind was playing tricks on me. But when he stepped further into the room, his gaze settling on me, I knew it was real. I stared at him, too stunned to speak. He looked the same, yet different—just older and sharper now. The boy I once knew had been replaced by a man whose presence effortlessly filled the room. His features were calm and completely unreadable—but there was something in his eyes, something I couldn’t quite place. “Are you okay, Ms. Clarence?” the younger doctor asked. I nodded rapidly, forcing myself to pull it together. “This is Dr. Julian Blackwood. He’ll be in charge of your surgery,” he introduced. “I’ll leave you both to talk.” He turned to go. I wanted to reach out, to stop him, to ask him not to leave me alone in this room. But whatever this was, I had

Julian’s POV. The moment I stepped into my office, I shut the door harder than necessary. My jaw tightened as I dropped my clipboard onto the desk and ran a frustrated hand through my hair. Clarence’s words echoed in my mind, unsettling me in a way, I didn’t want to admit. "I trusted my husband. He won’t harm me." Who did that? Who blindly swallowed whatever was handed to them without a second thought? It was reckless. Stupid. Clarence wasn’t someone who acted carelessly, like a sheep being led to slaughter. She was cautious, she had a voice, and she would never indulge in something that wasn’t verified. And yet, despite my frustration, I couldn’t understand what had made her blindly trust her husband enough to take a substance she knew nothing about. The more I thought about it, the angrier I became, and yet I couldn’t calm my temper. But it wasn’t because she used to be the most important person in my life—those days were long gone. No, it was because I was a doctor,

Gina’s POV. I had barely settled in after Damon popped the question when my phone buzzed on the table. I glanced at the screen, and the name flashing back at me sent my pulse racing. “Richard.” A wave of anxiety crashed over me. Why now? He didn’t have to call—not here, not with Damon sitting right beside me. I quickly declined, pressing my lips together as I set my phone down. Forcing a smile, I tried to focus on Damon and the expensive champagne he was pouring into my glass. On the fact that I had just secured everything I ever wanted. But barely a minute passed before my phone vibrated again. “Who’s calling you like that?” Damon asked, his eyes settling on me as he tried to peek at my phone. A jolt of panic ran through me, but I kept my face calm, forcing a casual laugh. “No one important,” I said lightly, silencing the call again. Before I could take a breath, it rang for the third time. My mother, who had been quietly watching, leaned in. “Answer it. No one keeps