The Divorced Heiress’s Revenge



In the morning, a warm glow of sunlight was cast upon the entirety of Rose Island. The shore, filled with fine grains of pure white sand, reflected the sunlight off its surface.

Meanwhile, the window of Bella's bedroom was covered with a layer of heavy and velvety curtains. Its fabric was so thick that sunlight could barely prate through it.

For someone who had to endure a devastating, grueling experience all night, such a setting was the perfect place to fall asleep until the end of time. Christopher, on the other hand, managed to wake up very early.

He was jolted awake by a nightmare and woke up drenched in cold sweat.

When he opened his eyes, his complexion was pale and sickly. The first thing he did was to shift his trembling hands to the side to feel for a body. Soon, his touch reached Bella's soft and supple body. He sighed in relief upon feeling her presence and sat himself upright on the bed.

The bedsheets were sprawled out haphazardly on the bed.

It was not the product of their consummation but Bella's determined and relentless struggle all night.

In the end, Christopher forced himself to suppress his desire and keep away from her.

He leaned listlessly against the head of the bed and stared at the delicate features of the sleeping woman.

A smile containing what seemed like relief and happiness graced the corners of his cracked and pale lips. Then he slowly and gently stroked Bella's cheeks.

He was reluctant to part with her. Countless other emotions swirled within him.

"How am I supposed to look into those eyes and transform all of my doubts into trust? When can I hold your hand tightly in mine and kiss you?" His fingertips gently grazed against the tip of Bella's dainty nose as he chanted a love song he was familiar with.

His chest felt suffocated, and every note he sang was off-key. It was horrendous.

Bella could not hear him.

Despite that, he realized that this was going to be his last chance to sing to her.

"Good morning, Bella." Christopher leaned over and pecked a kiss on her forehead.

He wished he could address her as Mrs. Iverson.

For some reason, he could not bring himself to say it.

Deep down, he realized that despite the wedding and having spent the night in the same bed, Bella would never truly belong to him, not even for a fleeting moment.

He knew he was nearing his end and did not want to spend it in delusions.

Then there was a knock on the door. The maid entered with a tray.

"Mr. Iverson, it's time for you to take your medicine."Content from NôvelDr(a)ma.Org.

As soon as the maid approached Christopher, she noticed the hideous knife wound on his chest. She was so terrified by the sight that her eyes widened, and she nearly dropped the tray. Mr. Iverson! You're injured! I'll caffa doctor to dress the wound!"

"It's fine. No need for that."

The wound was completely exposed and may very likely be infected.

In the face of such a threat, all Christopher did was lower his eyes and pick up the gold-rimmed glasses on the bedside table to put them on, as if it were not a big deal. His eyes were bloodshot, and his vision was blurry.

Then he took several painkillers and swallowed them all. He followed it up by picking up another bottle of epinephrine and injected himself with it in a practiced fashion.

To be precise, it was the searing pain that woke him up.

Every throb of pain he felt coursing through his body seemed to mimic the ticking of a clock, foretelling the final moments of his life on this earth. "Christopher."

He heard a deep and grave voice.

He glanced in the direction of the voice with narrowed eyes and found Jace's towering figure walking up to him.

"It's time to wake up from your fantasy. Justin and Drew have landed on the island. The Boss has given orders to evacuate Miss Thompson from the island immediately."