Chapter 34 Will Never Divorce
“It’s just a misunderstanding.” Albert insisted, refusing to acknowledge any involvement with Isabella.
His sharp eyes locked onto Charles. “Mr. Foster, let’s be honest with each other. I see what you’re planning, but let me make one thing clear. It’s never going to happen.”
Charles remained cold, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “People always say that when they know they’re backed into a corner and have no chance of winning. I thought you were a man who was more confident than that.”
As Charles concluded his words, Albert’s hands balled into fists. If he didn’t know deep down that he wasn’t a match for Charles, he would have charged at him without a second thought.
“Albert, get out. And don’t ever come back to my house again,” Florence interrupted, standing up and pointing toward the door without a shred of hesitation.
Albert’s heart ached at her cold dismissal. “Florence, what happened to you? Just a few days ago, you weren’t like this. You’ve become a completely different person.”
“Remember how you told me that Isabella was to be pitied because it wasn’t easy for someone to make their way in this city? And you urged me to look after her more.” “Now, you’re talking about divorce because I did just that. Don’t you see the contradiction in your own words?”
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Chapter 34 Will Never Divorce
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Florence’s expression turned even colder as memories of the even colder as memories of the past life flooded her mind.
She sneered and glared at Albert, “I did tell you to take care of Isabella, but I didn’t give you permission to take care of her in bed. Do you dare to swear that if you’ve slept with her, you’ll meet a terrible end in this life?”
Albert gaped at her in shock, and he pressed his lips together in a tight line before responding, “Florence, when did you become so harsh? I chose to marry you! You are the wife I’ve decided
on.”
As he spoke, he took a step toward her.
But Florence instinctively backed away. The thought of any physical contact with him made her feel sick to her stomach.
Charles stepped forward, blocking Albert from getting any closer
lo Florence.
“Mr. Foster, this is a matter between me and my wife. I hope you won’t interfere,” Albert growled, his patience wearing thin.
Charles remained calm, but his voice was like ice. “Do you to end up with a dislocated wrist again?”
want
Albert’s face twitched with anger, but he held back.
Stepping in front of Florence, William looked livid. “It seems you have no respect for your elders either. Get out of my house
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before I have the servants drag you out.”
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Charles cut in with a faint smile, “Mr. Brooks, I have two bodyguards with me. If you need extra hands, just let me know.”
Albert, realizing he was losing the battle on all fronts, shot one last look at Florence. “No matter what you think, you are my wife, and I will never divorce you.”
Florence’s brows furrowed in frustration.
She murmured, “Dealing with Albert is going to take more effort than I thought.”
Once Albert was gone, the atmosphere in the room lightened considerably. After dinner, Florence personally saw Charles off.
“Mr. Foster, there are some details about our cooperation I’d like to discuss. When are you free?” Florence asked.
Just as Charles was about to get into the car, she recalled several specifics about the project that she felt needed to be discussed beforehand.
“Tomorrow morning works,” Charles replied.
“So, shall we meet at ten o’clock tomorrow morning? I hat time suitable for you?”
Charles gave a nod of affirmation.
That evening, upon returning to her villa, Florence hadn’t even
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had the chance to change out of her clothes when she received a call from Ruby.
She hesitated for a moment before answering.
“Florence, can you come over for dinner tomorrow night? I miss you.”
Ruby’s warm voice came through the line.
Out of everyone in the Morris family, she was the only one who had ever treated Florence with genuine kindness.
In her past life, Ruby had protected Florence countless times, and Florence had never forgotten that.
“Okay, Grandma. I’ll come to visit you tomorrow night,” Florence agreed.
But that night, the peacefulness was shattered by another nightmare.
In her dream, Florence was trapped in a fire. Despair clung to her like a thick fog. She remembered how she’d barely escaped with her life, wrapping herself in a wet quilt and running through the fire to make it out of the hotel.
She had showed signs of preterm labor and been rushed to the hospital.
Later, she’d secretly investigated and discovered that Isabella had been the arsonist. Before she could expose Isabella, a sharp 4/5
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pain tore through her abdomen, and she was rushed to the delivery room.
She eventually died of the heavy bleeding.
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The dream replayed the tragic events of her past life, forcing Florence to suffer unbearable pain. She jolted awake, cold sweat drenching her forehead and back.
It was still dark, but sleep was no longer an option for her.
At eight o’clock the next morning, Violet was startled when she saw Florence come downstairs. “Ms. Brooks, are you alright? You look terrible!”
Florence glanced in the mirror, and her reflection scared even her. Her face was pale, nearly bloodless.
“I’m fine,” she replied. “I just didn’t get enough rest.”
Hearing her hoarse and raspy voice, Florence was stunned.
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