Divorce Me Before Death Takes Me, CEO

Chapter 70

Blake’s POV

The door closed behind Michael with a decisive click, leaving the vast expanse of room unnaturally quiet. Through the floor–to–ceiling windows, I watched my assistant’s figure hurry after Audrey’s retreating form, leaving me alone with Laurel and the echoes of what had just transpired,

The clean staircase showed no sign of what just happened. But the image of Audrey’s body tumbling down those stairs was burned into my mind.

Blake darling… Laurel’s voice wavered as she nervously wet her lips.

I remained fixed on the spot where Audrey had fallen. That was deliberate, She barely touched you, yet you did push her.”

I turned to face her fully, studying her reaction with a cold expression. The expression on her face was beginning to crack under my scrutiny.

“I couldn’t breathe that moment…” Her hand fluttered to her chest. “You know about my cancer…”

“Since when does gastric cancer cause breathing problems?” The question landed like ice between us. When she didn’t immediately respond, I pressed. ‘I still haven’t seen your medical records from Europe.”

Her eyes widened slightly. “I’ve arranged consultations with every leading gastric cancer specialist in the country. Pulled strings, called in favors, moved heaven and earth to get you the best care possible.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Yet somehow, your medical records remain mysteriously absent.“/

I took a step closer, watching her shrink back. “Tell me, Laurel. Are you really a cancer patient?”

She looked panicked for a moment. Her composure cracked, just for a moment, before she ducked her head to hide behind her hair.

lap, a gesture meant to convey distress but now seemingly theatrical. “The records from Europe… they’ll

now…

Audrey’s POV

Snow’s warm weight against my chest as I carried her inside did more to ease my pain than any painkiller could. Setting her carrier down gently, I collapsed onto my worn couch, finally allowing myself

pant leg revealed an impressive array of bruises blooming across my skin, each step of that staircase having left its mark. The irony wasn’t lost on me I’d survived terminal cancer diagnosis

rummaged through my first aid supplies, my phone

treatment… her representative lawyer wants to meet now, to discuss a potentially lucrative

my battered legs, wincing as I shifted

it was, I know the timing is

this. But with only three months left to

rubbing against my leg with concerned chirps. Even she seemed to sense something was off about

phone beyond time and location. As I applied antiseptic to my bruises, I couldn’t help but wonder what kind

collaborate on? I thought darkly. Planning

1/3

Chapter 70

brand of luxury. Andrew Jensen, the lawyer who’d called earlier, carried himself with the precise professionalism

share your medical condition and records with her. He laid out documents with practiced efficiency. She needs a gastric cancer patient’s records to mask her

trying to process this bizarre request. “Wait, what? Isn’t she a

was too smooth, too practiced. Perhaps she needs to conceal her true health status from certain parties. Given her public profile, many eyes

Each clause had been crafted carefully, leaving no loose ends that might unravel their facade. Whoever this mystery client was, they’d

Jensen. A terminal patient’s medical records as a smokescreen – it was almost

that particular blend of efficiency and authority that only came from years of handling delicate matters for the wealthy. “Once you sign, the hospital will treat your records as hers. All treatments will be fully covered, of