The Billionaire's Discarded Wife

Also, day after day of insomnia, I emptied one bottle after another.

At this moment, I had no money to get medicine.

I could only turn around and go home.

But when I walked to the front door, I found the villa's front gate tightly shut, with not a bit of light inside.

I covered my stomach, which was still faintly aching, and with difficulty pressed the doorbell on the villa's front gate.

"Vera, are you there? Please help me open the door."

I clenched my teeth and shouted inside.

The next moment, the giggling of Wyatt's new love, Georgia Harding, came out from the door's security camera.

"Lately the neighborhood's had crazy theft, so Wyatt just set access control. After ten o'clock, no one's allowed in or out—including you, Alice."

As her words fell, Wyatt's hoarse, rich voice followed.

"Stop playing around, let's continue..."

The sound by my ear abruptly stopped.

I touched the only eighty dollars left in my pocket.

A wave of bleakness rose in my heart.

I slowly covered my stomach and sat down on the steps by the gate. Holding myself tightly. Trying to use this to find a bit of warmth.

But at this time, I suddenly remembered the scene from when we were dating.

The first time Wyatt brought me to the villa, he excitedly interlaced our fingers. Little by little, he introduced the various rooms of the villa to me.

And told me: "Alice, this front gate is open for you at any time. This is your home, a place that belongs to you. And in this home, there will only be you as the one lady of the house."

And now.

I looked at the place in front of me that had once been called home. Yet I felt it was especially unfamiliar.

I sat blankly at the villa gate for an entire night.

When Vera Chavez woke up and opened the door, my limbs had long since become stiff and numb.

"Ma'am, why didn't you go find a place to stay? Hurry and come in, don't catch a cold from freezing."

She anxiously took my hand. When she touched my icy palm, her heart suddenly trembled. In the way she looked at me, there was a bit more pity and sympathy.

She didn't say anything more, and hurriedly went to the kitchen to make ginger soup for me.

These past three years, when I was disliked and cursed at by people, only Vera had unwaveringly believed me.

She told me: "You're not someone who's greedy for vanity. If you did this, you definitely had no choice. I believe you."

At that time, the time we had spent together was only the few times I came here to play before I got married. But it was precisely someone like her who chose to believe me.

And Wyatt, who kept saying he loved me, yet from beginning to end, he refused to believe me.

Thinking about it, it's also laughable.

Not long after, I drank the ginger soup and ate dinner Vera prepared for me.

When I returned to my room and was about to wash up and rest, a woman's crisp, pleasant coquettish voice suddenly came from outside the door.

"It's all your fault. Last night you didn't know how to hold back at all, you kept messing with me. My waist is so sore right now."

"Look how spoiled you are. When I have time, I'll arrange a yoga coach for you to train with. Later we'll play with something else."

Wyatt's familiar, rich voice came in through the room door. In his slightly hoarse voice, there was a pleased smile.

Hearing his laughter, my mind was a little dazed. It seemed like I didn't remember how long it had been since I'd seen him smile.

All of a sudden, I saw the prepared divorce agreement on the nightstand.

I flipped up and got out of bed, took the agreement, and walked out the door. But I happened to run into Wyatt and Georgia in the hallway, kissing passionately.

Watching as his hand fell onto her thigh, I moved my dry lips and softly said, "Sorry to bother you for a few minutes."

The moment Wyatt's gaze that had still carried tenderness landed on me, it instantly revealed a sharp, overbearing light.