Wesley reached out and patted her on the head, a gentle smile at the corner of his eyes. “Rissa.”
Amelia took a leisurely sip of red wine. She didn’t know whether Prisci wanted to remain Wesley’s wife or be the Carlton family’s heiress, but she was sure Prisci would be angry and disappointed.
Well, let them make a scene.
When Wesley can’t take it anymore, he’ll get divorced anyway.
Prisci had been sitting in her room for a long time. Her makeup was no longer wless, but rather aplete mess.
She hadn’t shown up at the family recognition banquet and wondered if Frank would change his mind and refuse to help her get the divorce certificate.
She wondered if Bonnie would be worried.
Just as her thoughts were running wild, the door suddenly clicked open.
Wesley had returned.
Prisci immediately stood up, her gaze cold as she swept past Wesley, lifting her skirt and heading for the door.
The hem of her dress brushed over Wesley’s foot.
Wesley grabbed Prisci’s wrist and said calmly, “It’s over.”
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Of course, Prisci knew that the banquet downstairs had already ended.
She was disheartened and wanted to leave this ce.
As for the divorce certificate, she would have to find another
way.
However, she couldn’t shake off Wesley’s iron–like grip; instead, he pulled her into his arms.
Wesley hugged her tightly, his fingers gently tucking the strands of hair by her ear behind it.
“I’ll take you home.”
They were still husband and wife, so naturally, they were supposed to live together.
Prisci took a deep breath to suppress the anger in her heart.
He had ruined her recognition banquet, but it didn’t matter; she was never interested in being Frank’s granddaughter
anyway.
But he could have talked to her, yet he chose to lock her up
here and let her cry.
And then, he even said he wanted a child…
Prisci couldn’t ept it.
She looked at him coldly. “Wesley, I can’t go on with you
anymore.”
There had long been no feelings left between them.
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Wesley looked down at her, his gaze deep and unreadable, filled with pain, regret, and a hint of determination.
“How do you know we can’t go on if we don’t try?” Wesley kissed her forehead.
There was a lingering tenderness between husband and wife.
Prisci turned her head away, tears hanging at the corner of her eyes. She truly couldn’t invest any more feelings in this rtionship.
Wesley only gripped her wrist tightly, his heart aching, as he led her all the way to the parking lot.
Prisci made a scene in the car, but Wesley didn’t soften in the slightest. He held her hands firmly and brought her back to Chaston Vi.
In the living room, Wesley handed Prisci her phone. “Stay here and behave. I’ll talk to Grandma.”
Prisci gripped her phone tightly, her gaze trembling. “Are you going to lock me up here again?”
Wesley steeled his heart, but his tone was gentle: “Take good care of your health.”
The meaning couldn’t have been clearer.
He wanted her to recuperate so she could conceive.
He really intended to keep her here as a tool for childbirth.
“Wesley, if you want a child, there are plenty of women willing to have one for you. But I don’t want to. I will never give birth
to your child,” Prisci murmured. That child was an eternal
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pain in her heart.
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When two people who don’t love each other have a child, it’s the child who suffers in the end.
Prisci didn’t want her child to grow up in a loveless family.
Wesley lowered his head, his fingers gently brushing away the tear at the corner of her eye, his feelings deep and intense.
“Prisci, I’ll wait for you to change your mind.” Wesley kissed the top of her head, his voice low and gentle. “I’m going to the hospital to see Grandma.”
He strode away.
Prisci chased to the door, only to be stopped by the bodyguards.
“Ma’am, you can’t go out.”
“Wesley!” Prisci shouted uncontrobly<i>, </i>her emotions in turmoil. “You can’t keep me locked up here!”
Wesley paused, turning his head slightly. “Prisci, I’ll take care of Grandma. Don’t worry.”
Prisci’s face turned pale as she copsed to the floor.
Now, he was even using Bonnie to threaten her.
***
Hospital.
Bonnie was furious, demanding Frank, “Where is my Ci?”
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Frank’s face was bitter as a gourd. He had exined countless times. “That rascal Wes… Don’t worry, I’ll get her out. Don’t
worry.”
How could Bonnie not worry? She had no idea how much more suffering her Ci would have to endure.
Outside the door.
Dillon looked on in surprise at the scene inside the ward.
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