My Cold-Hearted Husband Chases Me Again

"I've talked to Vince about this more than once, but every time he hears about it, he starts avoiding the topic. He even suspects that you might be complaining to me and intentionally targeting you. After several attempts, I was afraid that it would backfire, so I stopped talking about it, thinking that one day he would come to his senses..."

At this point, Michelle sighed and looked at Gianna. "Gia, have you really made up your mind about divorcing Vince?"

Gianna nodded.

She poured out all the grievances she had endured over the years, both big and small. When she finished speaking, she felt as if a heavy weight had been lifted from her body.

Just as she had let go of her love for Vince.

When she stopped caring, there was no more burden.

Upon hearing about her miscarriage, Michelle’s expression softened with deep sorrow. She couldn’t help but pull Gianna into a tight hug, gently caressing her pale cheek. "I'm so sorry, my dear. It’s because of us that you’ve suffered so much."

Gianna lowered her gaze. Her mother had told her about the child swap incident, but never about her past with Antonio.

She had never understood why Vince suddenly started to despise her, or why he constantly hurt her for Roxan’s sake.

Now that she understood the cause and effect, she realized: everything was fated, and very little was within one’s control.

She believed in fate; some things were destined to happen, and there was no escaping them.

Vince might probably regret his actions, but she had no energy to wait for him to grow up and repent.

Now, all she felt for Vince was a deep physical aversion.

Before leaving the old house, Gianna placed the pocket watch into Michelle’s hand and sincerely thanked her. "Thank you, Auntie."

Michelle gripped her hand tightly but couldn’t bring herself to ask her to stay.

When Gianna returned home, Vince was, as expected, not there.

That was fine.

She had no energy to argue with him.

In the following days, Gianna continued packing her belongings, removing all traces of her life in this house.

Occasionally, she would catch the latest news on the TV, which still reported on the situation with TerraLink Group.

Vince was a man of means. Within just a few days, he managed to silence the board members. Roxan’s parents had apparently been paid off and, before surrendering themselves to the authorities, they made a public statement clarifying that they had no relationship with Roxan. They claimed that their previous actions were motivated by someone else’s money, which they used to tarnish TerraLink Group’s reputation.

As for who that person was, they didn’t say, and the police didn’t release any details. It was left to the public to speculate.

TerraLink Group’s PR team worked overtime, attempting to salvage the company’s image by spreading posts about business conspiracies and engaging in online battles. They bought traffic and hired trolls to manipulate the opinions of the uninformed masses.

They worked tirelessly to clear the dirt off both TerraLink Group and Roxan.

It seemed Vince had spent quite a lot of money for Roxan.

But none of this concerned Gianna.

After handling some personal affairs, she went to the industry and commerce bureau to cancel her sole proprietorship business of a children’s painting store.

Just as she was leaving the bureau, she was called by the vet hospital.

"Hello, Miss Cole, is it convenient for you to come by now? Ginger's condition is not looking good."

Gianna’s heart skipped a beat, and the panic of potentially losing something once again surged through her.

Without a second thought, she rushed to the pet hospital.

When she arrived, out of breath, Ginger, her orange tabby cat, was lying on the examination table, hooked up to an IV. Its breathing was weak, and it appeared to be in a semi-conscious state.

Ginger seemed to sense Gianna’s presence and made a feeble attempt to lift its head to look at her. Even this small action was too much for it to handle.

Gianna walked up slowly and gently pressed on its paw, trying to hold back the tears in her throat. "Don’t be afraid, Ginger. I’m here. I’ll stay with you."

Outside the emergency room, the doctor looked serious and said, "Ginger is 18 years old, which is about 90 in human years. For an orange tabby, that’s quite old. Unfortunately, its organs are failing, and it could go at any time. Miss Cole, you need to prepare yourself."