Forced Marriage: My Wife, My Redemption by Lilyheart

Chapter 224: If he is alive, where is he?

Davis nodded thoughtfully, unsurprised that Jessica had gone upstairs without waiting for him.

The weariness etched across her features in the car had not escaped his notice. Her fatigued frame slumped silently in the car earlier, the quiet exhaustion clinging to her like a heavy cloak.

He had chosen to stay silent, respecting her unspoken need for rest, momentarily overlooking her tired body, due to her tendency to conceal her discomfort. Still, the nagging concern hadn’t left him.

I’ll have to bring the doctor in by tomorrow,"he mused inwardly. Knowing her stubborn nature he resolved to work gently but firmly in coaxing her into agreeing before the doctor’s visit in the morning.

He thought for a while "tonight would be the best chance to persuade her before the doctor’s visit." He murmured inwardly to himself

With Ethan expertly maneuvering the wheelchair along the ramp, Davis inhaled deeply, grounding himself.

"Has Mr. Stan contacted you again?" he asked, his voice low but laced with expectation.

Ethan nodded, keeping pace beside him. "Yes, sir. He called to confirm that the meeting with the shareholders is scheduled for tomorrow at 10 a.m. sharp."

"Good." Davis’s gaze sharpened and gave a short nld. "Add Mr. Ford’s birthday celebration to my schedule. It’s three days from now. Also, arrange for a doctor to visit the suite tomorrow. Preferably a gynecologist. Schedule the appointment for 5 p.m."

"Yes, sir."

When they reached the door of Davis’s private suite, he lifted a hand, signaling Ethan to stop. "You can return to your room. I’ll take it from here."

Ethan gave a brief bow and departed.

Gently, he pushed the door open and wheeled himself in.

The room was dim, awash in the soft, warm glow from a bedside lamp. Jessica lay nestled under the duvet, clad in a soft nightdress. Her face, calm and serene, was illuminated faintly by the bedside lamp.

The gentle fragrance of her shower gel still lingered in the air, hinting she had just bathed before lying down. Her breathing was steady, and from the rhythm of her chest, Davis could tell she had drifted off to sleep.

"Babe," he called softly, almost in a whisper but she didn’t stir. He called her again yet—No response.

He wheeled himself closer and with careful effort, stretched his legs to ease the familiar numbness, bracing himself before standing.

His eyes lingered on her peaceful face, his expression softening and with a deliberate

In the past, even the slightest sound like the click of a door would wake her, but now... he shook his head

silence. Her presence brought a strange calm to his heart—a warmth he didn’t realize he had been longing for. A soft sigh escaped his lips as he reluctantly stood and without disturbing

she was awake. He dried off his hair, and dressed in a clean set of pajamas. Instead of heading straight to bed, he walked over to his

review the proposal one last time. He carefully read through the documents—refining arguments, perfecting strategies, drawing up

the final draft, he made meticulous edits and finalized the

that he finally turned off

lighten. Quietly, he eased into to bed, sparing one last

~Country Y~

Y had descended into mayhem. The media had exploded with the

with dire effect across the country, as the news ignited public panic and speculation at its wake. Yet, the Allen family remained quiet and Desmond Allen, however,

effect is what he had envisioned. An opportunity he had always

had meticulously engineered with a singular goal: remove Davis from the picture, and rise unchallenged.

of this approach all the while. But then, as

a storm far more volatile than he had

air of supreme confidence, Desmond’s steps echoed through the hallway, each stride laced

had summoned him again, and the meeting had been tense yet he emerged feeling victorious. To him, the throne was finally within reach while he calculated his next line of

fingers at his assistant, issuing new directives with clinical

Brown," he ordered his assistant. "There’s an

obeyed without question because he is in no

his office, Desmond sank into his leather chair, scrolling leisurely through the explosion of headlines on his tablet. His lips curled in a satisfied smirk;

calls flooded in for various reasons and

business associates,

from this chaos? How do I

a strategic call

pawn, and Desmond the mastermind of a well-orchestrated game but to George as long as

anticipate. As he ended the call, a smile on his lips, a testimony of his victory, a quiet

with a notification, and as expected, he anticipated an anxious call from investors. But his face immediately scrunched, his brows furrowed in disbelief at

News: Police Chief Debunks Davis Allen’s Death Rumors. Statement Issued Under Allen Family