After divorce, Ex-wife Revealed Identities

But all was too late now. Eddie wanted to murder him.

The old Evans's heart was broken.

The pain within was sharper than the pain in his body.

Just then, the door of the ward was pushed open.

A tall, beautiful woman stepped in. She looked at him expressionlessly. "Sylvia..." the old Evans called weakly.

Sylvia walked to the bed step by step, lowered her eyes, and looked at the old, dying man on the bed.

Was he really her family?

But why didn't she feel close to him?

Was it because her mother was kicked out of the family by him?

She had mixed feelings.

After a while, she finally spoke. "Is my mother your daughter?”

"Yes... She is." the old Evans nodded. “I am your grandfather.”

"But... Why can't I feel any connection between you and me?" Sylvia smiled mockingly.

"I wanted to ask you the first time I saw you. Is your mother alright?" What the old Evans wanted to know the most was Monica's news. "My dad said she died in a car accident when I was eight years old." Sylvia closed her eyes and reopened them.

She's dead? How come? How could she die so young? She is a genius! It must be my fault. I was too cruel to her..." the old Evans wept silently, laying weakly, trembling like a broken old bellows.

"Monica!"

"My daughter”

so hard that

down. He was

old, right?" the old Evans wiped away his tears and looked at Sylvia

"Yes."

your birthday in

"Yes."

So, she kept you." the old Evans sighed, "I have been looking for her for so many years...but since she left the Evans family, there has been

slightly. A thought suddenly flashed in her mind,

not sure," the old Evans said helplessly, "Your father is

was pounding. If Otto wasn't her father, who

Her mind went blank.

about her sister who died with her mother? Who was the father

didn't dare to think

Why?

trapped in a

to solve

was already two o'clock in the morning when

was like

and your mother, I've decided to hand

to

couldn't figure

out of

Bentley was parked at

the man, which seemed cold

car and sat beside him, tired. "Why are you here?" When she left, she

to disturb him from sleeping but she

grab her cold hand, and tightly wrapped

head on his shoulder wearily. "I'm

sleep. I'll wake you up when we arrive home." Franklin's deep voice was like fine wine, especially intoxicating in

head, stretched out her other hand, and put it on his