Chapter 113

The next day, when a servant stopped me at the gate of the Ferguson Mansion, preventing me from stepping outside, I realized the truth. Last night was merely a notification.

I knew it was Bryant’s doing, not the servant’s. So, I patiently asked, “Where’s Bryant?”

“Mr. Ferguson left before dawn.”

“Has Gary returned?”

“Not yet, Gary’s handling Mr. Timothy’s funeral arrangements.”

I spoke softly, “What if I need to leave now?”

“Mrs. Ferguson, you can’t leave.” The servant gestured toward the floor-to-ceiling windows, where several men in black suits stood guard.

I was shocked. In three years, Bryant’s deceit hadn’t changed. He told me I only had to stay for one night, and then he wouldn’t let me step out the door.

There was a moment when I wondered if he was at all the same person who, years ago, had kindly taken me to the infirmary, carefully respecting my pride, trying every means to invite me out for a meal. Could eight years change someone so completely?

on my phone, mainly condolences for

Mark were the most contrasting Christine sent a barrage of messages

care of yourself.]

from Christine, only Mark reminded me to take care of myself. Most were trying

of them before

“Mrs. Ferguson, there’s been an issue at our overseas branch, and Mr. Ferguson is in

I closed my

be unstable. Bryant was overwhelmed, unable to spare me

Station? I’m being held against

dark expression, quickly dismissed the officers, and strode toward me.

1/2

Chapter 113

of oppression. “So, you

nodded without hesitation. “Yes.”

to remain in a marriage on the verge of breaking. Nor could I accept a husband who

lips curled into a cold sneer. “Well, I don’t want that.”

it matter,” I was exhausted. “This will only make me despise

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