Chapter 1804:


    His brow furrowed as he turned the day’s unspoken moments over in his mind. He could sense that Gillian was carrying a secret, something heavy and carefully concealed. The not knowing gnawed at him, a quiet unease he couldn’t shake or name.


    Inside a private room at a bar, Violette’s hands trembled with barely contained fury as she threw a pile of photographs onto the table. Every image showed Alban, Gillian, and Adide together —ughing, close, unmistakably a family.


    The sight of their happiness cut through her like something cold and sharp.


    She had always known, somewhere beneath the surface, that she would never truly marry Alban. But knowing it and epting it were entirely different things, and she was not ready to let go of the dream she had nursed for years.


    She had devoted herself to winning him — and in the end, she had been defeated by a woman who already had his child. The humiliation of it was staggering. All those years of effort, all that careful persistence, reduced to nothing. The rage that rose in her was blinding, swallowing every other feeling whole.


    Violette was shaking with rage. She swept every wine bottle off the table with one furious motion, sending them crashing to the floor in an explosion of shattering ss.


    Her features were contorted with anger as she snatched up a photograph and crushed it into a tight ball in her fist. She stared at the image of Gillian’s bright, happy smile with undisguised hatred, and it made her blood boil.


    She couldn’t bear the thought that the man she had failed to win for years had chosen a woman from a poor background — someone she considered beneath her in every way. Losing to a wealthy, powerful rival would have been easier to stomach. But this? Violette felt that a woman like Gillian had no right to even stand in her presence.


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    Her fingernails dug into Gillian’s face on the photograph, pressing until they tore straight through the paper.


    She made up her mind then and there: if she couldn’t have Alban, she would make sure no one else could either. Once her n seeded and the Martel family crumbled, she would seize Alban and hunt down Gillian and her daughter as well. She wanted to force him to watch while she made them suffer — every single day, until there was nothing left of them. To Violette, that was the only fitting punishment for a woman who had dared to take what was hers.


    The following morning, Gillian walked to Christina’s door and gave three soft knocks, then stood waiting patiently. Christina had called and asked her toe by, though she hadn’t said why, and Gillian had no idea what to expect.


    After a moment, the door swung open.


    “Hello, Miss Jones,” Gillian said respectfully.


    Christina smiled warmly and stepped aside. “Come in. I have some news for you.”


    “Of course,” Gillian replied, stepping inside without hesitation.


    Once the door was closed, Gillian stood quietly to one side, curious butposed. “What did you want to speak with me about?” She assumed it had something to do with Alban.


    “I just received word from King,” Christina said, her voice calm and measured. “The doctor will be performing your surgery sometime this week.”


    “I’ll go along with whatever has been arranged,” Gillian said. Then she looked at Christina directly. “If something goes wrong and I don’t make it through — would you look after Adide?”


    Christina was taken aback. “Why wouldn’t you leave her with Alban? He is her father, after all.”


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