The sharp scent of disinfectant hit her nose. Sydney woke up in the hospital again.
The blisters on her hands had been drained and bandaged.
The bad news—she had miscarried. Another child of hers was gone.
Her eyes went vacant, her heart a barren wasteland.
She couldn’t protect Julien, nor could she keep the baby she was carrying.
Just then, the hospital room door was suddenly kicked open with a bang.
Preston stormed in, his rage consuming him. He grabbed Sydney by the collar and yanked her up.
“Sydney! Look at the mess you’ve caused! Do you hate Savannah that much, that you had to steal everything from her?!” he shouted in one breath. “You’re already my wife! What more do you want? Why hurt Savannah and Chicago?!”
Her forehead glistened with sweat from the pain. “I-I never hurt Savannah…”
But Preston didn’t even give her a chance to explain.
He just quickly threw her to the floor like trash, his eyes shooting her daggers.
“Because of your jealousy, you burned her hand! Because of you, Chicago ran a high fever! I swear, Sydney, you will pay for what you’ve done!”
The next second, she was dragged from the general ward to the VIP suite.
He forced her head down, making her apologize to Savannah.
Over and over, her knees reddened, blood trickling down her pale legs, staining the floor.
Her expression went blank, her body numb from pain. She didn’t even have the strength to resist.
After almost a hundred times of forcing her to kneel, Preston finally stopped.
As she lost consciousness, she heard his cold, sharp voice in her ear.
“This is the price you pay for hurting Savannah…”
This time, Sydney remained unconscious for three days.
When she finally opened her eyes, a familiar figure stood before her.
Preston’s brow was tired, his forehead slightly furrowed, and his tone uncharacteristically gentle.
“You’re awake. Why didn’t you tell me you were pregnant? The doctor says you just miscarried; you need to rest,” he said. “Don’t be jealous of Savannah anymore. As long as you behave, I won’t divorce you. To the public, you will always be my wife.”
He pressed, “Chicago hasn’t been well lately. Sydney, look, you gotta be more understanding. If you can’t help me, at the very least, don’t make things harder. You and Savannah will continue living under the same roof. You must get along with her.”
“Hah.” Sydney scoffed. “Preston, what do you even think I am? A fool?”
They killed her son and now expect her to get along with Savannah? Did this jerk really think Sydney was that easy to manipulate?
Preston frowned, showing a subtle warning in his tone. “Savannah grew up in the Adelsons. Her bond with them isn’t something you can compete with. Sydney, continuing this will only hurt you.”
Sydney lowered her gaze, a contemptuous smile curling on her lips.
“Preston, I don’t want the Adelsons anymore. And I don’t want you either.”
If it weren’t for seeing her own blood once more, she would never have returned to the Adelsons, nor would she have married him.
The Adelsons only wanted to use her. At first, they pretended to feel guilty. But after she married Preston, the pretense ended. They treated the fake heiress as their real daughter and never cared whether Sydney lived or died.
Her words hit Preston, but he dismissed them as capricious defiance.
His voice turned colder, irritation flashing in his eyes. “Sydney, even jealousy has its limits. I’m busy, you know. I don’t have time to coddle you.”
Sydney’s stomach turned at his hypocrisy.
Losing her temper, she slammed the glass down, shattering it, and pointed at the door. “Get out! I don’t want to see you!”
Her defiance ignited his anger.
His face darkened, he kicked the door hard, then stormed off. The door slammed against the wall with a deafening crash.
Meanwhile, in the CEO’s office of the Strykers Corporation, the door opened.
The assistant placed the wedding proposal in front of Brooks.
“Sir, the company drafted a few wedding plans for your review.”
Behind the desk, the man in a tailored suit exuded sharp authority. His cold eyes scanned the assistant, slender fingers tapping lightly on the desk.
“What did the lawyer say?”
“Ma’am Sydney has already divorced Preston, sir.”
A faint smile tugged at Brooks’s lips. “Announce it publicly—I’m getting married.”
After five long years of waiting, Sydney was finally coming back to him.
All of New York was abuzz, everyone desperate to know the identity of the mysterious bride of the Strykers’ heir.
Even Preston had heard the news.
