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.

bed and sat beside her. His eyes lingered on her peaceful face, his expression softening and

his brows furrowed as his eyes traced the contours of her face. In the past, even the slightest sound like

didn’t realize he had been longing for. A soft sigh escaped his lips as he reluctantly stood and

He emerged refreshed and handsome. A sight that usually sets her blushing if she was awake. He dried off his hair, and dressed in

looming, tonight was his only chance to review the proposal one last time. He

draft, he made meticulous edits and finalized the

that he finally turned off the desk lamp with a sigh of relief laced with

Quietly, he eased into to bed, sparing one last glance at Jessica’s sleeping face before pulling her into his arms and the lamp turned

~Country Y~

descended into mayhem. The media had exploded with the false news of Davis Allen’s death spreading like

as the news ignited public panic and speculation at its wake. Yet, the Allen family remained quiet

and this effect is what he had envisioned. An opportunity he had always longed

Davis from the picture, and rise unchallenged.

but blame himself for not thinking of this approach all the while. But then,

failed to foresee was that this move would ignite a storm far more volatile than he had prepared for. A storm that will make him

conference room with an air of supreme confidence, Desmond’s steps echoed through the hallway, each stride laced with pride

meeting had been tense yet he emerged feeling victorious. To him, the throne was finally within reach while he calculated

his fingers at his assistant, issuing new

an opening for him now. Offer him what we

because he is in no position to question him yet he felt

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

in for various reasons and purposes—sympathy, inquiries, veiled

are—investors, business associates, media

from this chaos? How do I get a pie

out his instructions, Desmond made a strategic call to George Brown, offering him another lucrative advantage—a bribe

pawn, and Desmond the mastermind of a well-orchestrated game but to George as long as it earned him a place in the world of the mighty then

ended the call, a smile on his lips, a testimony of his

he anticipated an anxious call from investors. But his face immediately scrunched, his brows furrowed in disbelief at

Debunks Davis Allen’s Death Rumors. Statement Issued Under