Forced Marriage: My Wife, My Redemption by Lilyheart

Chapter 295: Thank you for holding on...

~Earlier~

After the meeting with the planning committee in charge of the fashion week, Jessica had gone on-site with the team to inspect the venue.

The final arrangements were reviewed and adjustments made on spot making sure everything falls in order. After exchanging a good night wish with Richard and instructing him to see to the final adjustments, she stepped out of the hotel.

The cool night air brushed her skin, bringing a small wave of relief from the chaos of the day. She paused under the building’s canopy and returned Davis’s missed calls.

But when he informed her that he wouldn’t be returning that night, the disappointment tugged at her heartstrings. That single sentence drained her will to return to the villa and every trace of enthusiasm to go home vanished.

She hadn’t realized until now how accustomed she had become to his presence—how his absence made the silence heavier, the night colder.

She sighed, her fingers brushing her growing baby bump as if to draw strength. The pregnancy had made her more sensitive, more vulnerable in ways she hadn’t anticipated.

She paused briefly, eyes closed for a second, wishing she knew exactly where Davis was so she could just go to him.

But she knew he was busy with important matters, and him not taking her along meant it wasn’t a safe space for her.

Still, she didn’t want to be alone.

Jessica contemplated going over to Bella’s place. A casual night, some tea, idle talk, and she could crash there. Davis could pick her up in the morning.

With that in mind, she walked slowly toward her car. But then, she noticed something wrong.

A prickling sensation danced across her spine. Instincts flaring, she glanced over her shoulder discreetly. Three figures.

At first, she thought they were just pedestrians, but their patterns, the measured pace, the distance they maintained. It seems too intentional and calculated. The conclusion—she was being followed.

Her heart skipped a beat, and instinctively, her hand caressed her baby bump. With a soft sigh, "Baby," she murmured softly, her voice tender and low. "Dad isn’t here right now, and Mommy might need to handle some things. You have to be good. No flipping or kicking, alright? Let’s not make things harder on Daddy."

The street was cool, dimly lit, and nearly deserted. There wasn’t enough of a crowd to blend into. The shadows offered more promise. Her car could have been tampered with, and she couldn’t risk leading them there.

On top of that, she remembered she’d left without informing anyone. Her guards lived in the quarters at another wing of the mansion. She preferred not having them constantly shadowing her; their presence was reserved for emergencies.

Tonight, she wished she had broken her rule as this might be one.

Her brain raced through her options. Then, quietly, she blended into the shadows of the night. Holding her breath, she remained still as the men passed by, unaware of her new position.

lost track of her, she emerged from the darkness, her eyes following them as they walked

circled around.

sharp, and clean. She took a deep breath, "I’m ending this early," she muttered to

swift moves later, Jessica had taken control. With precision and agility, she disabled the attacker, who

trust any random car. With careful steps, she returned to her car. A quick inspection showed

She tried calling home.

the house line, not even from Henry. A headache began to

needed to

air was heavier, her thoughts louder. Even with the music playing softly, her

connection to anyone at the house only intensified the anxiety. A slow dread began to settle

entry. The house stood ominous, bathed in an unnatural stillness. The only sound was the faint

room creaked open and sight before her made her blood run cold and her breath caught. Deborah, Henry,

in horror. Her fingers twitched, readying for action. Her gaze swept the space—no sign of the

her head. Run! her expression

was her

crouched swiftly, untying Deborah and the others, her fingers nimble despite her trembling hands. Once free, Deborah

Sir. They

jaw tightened. So they

she asked, her tone

"Upstairs."

assessing her next steps. The pregnancy and the potential fight on the stairs made her

lunged at her and with no option left she reacted with precision. Each movement was swift. Her weak body couldn’t endure a prolonged fight.

strength. More speed.

screamed questions between every

her? Who sent them? But then—

~Back to Present~

deep into her bones. Her muscles ached, her

against her cheek. "Let me

faintly, allowing herself to sink

hadn’t realized just how much strength she’d used until

of Davis bursting through the door, calling her name, still played in her head

just holding on for

I feel like the problem is solved when

It’s really not a