Buying My Forever Wife novel Chapter 437

A flicker of deep embarrassment washed over Sylvia's face.

Her own flesh and blood vehemently rejected her, and Mr. Foster hadn't even afforded her the courtesy of a single syllable.

And now, Ivy was flat-out showing her the door.

Without a single person in this house welcoming her, if she stubbornly dug her heels in, she would only incite their total disgust.

Desperate to squeeze one last drop of sympathy from Ivy, Sylvia stood up, dramatically wiping her fresh tears.

"Alright, I'll go for now."

"Ivy, please, I'm begging you to convince Alaric. I really can't survive without my little girl. For her, I'd willingly scrub the floors and serve you both hand and foot!"

Seeing how intensely terrified Stella still was of her biological mother, Ivy offered a noncommittal brush-off.

"Yes, I'll talk to him."

Right before stepping out, Sylvia cast one final, agonizingly theatrical look of despair toward the child.

"Stella, Mommy truly loves you so much. Won't you please just give Mommy one little chance?"

Stella completely ignored the plea, spinning around and sprinting up the stairs.

Seeing the pure, unfiltered rejection radiating from the child, Ivy pushed the woman toward the door. "Just go for now. I promise I'll bring it up with Alaric."

Sylvia gave a pathetic nod of profound gratitude.

"Thank you, Ivy! If you manage to get me a spot here, I'll owe you my life!"

Ivy didn't offer another word.

Seriously, what wife in her right mind would ever want to share a roof with her husband's ex-wife?

She absolutely loathed the idea.

The only reason she was even considering broaching the subject with Mr. Foster was for Stella's sake.

As for whatever verdict Mr. Foster ultimately handed down, that was entirely his own cross to bear.

After watching the woman finally walk out the door, Ivy remembered that Stella had bolted upstairs in a foul mood.

Knowing the little girl was deeply upset, Ivy immediately rushed up to find her.

She hurried to chase after her.

She checked several empty rooms before finally locating her inside Mr. Foster's private study.

Seeing the girl sobbing uncontrollably on Mr. Foster's lap, Ivy lightly rapped on the door, stepping inside only after being given permission.

"Stella, don't interrupt your daddy's work. Come on, let me help you change your clothes."

Stella nodded meekly, sliding off her daddy's lap.

If he dragged out this childish cold war any longer, not only would his wife remain miserable, but his own heart would continue aching just as intensely.

Alaric raised his hand, gesturing for her. "Come here."

Ivy took a few hesitant steps forward, stopping right beside his chair, her eyes still glued to the floor.

In reality, she was furiously debating whether she should swallow her pride and try buttering up this stubborn old man one more time.

What exactly did she have to do to make him forget his anger entirely?

But Alaric beat her to the punch, locking his predatory gaze onto her. "What are your thoughts on the woman downstairs?"

He had no idea that Sylvia had already vacated the premises.

He was simply tossing out a line to gauge his wife's genuine feelings on the matter.

Should he let the woman stay for the sake of the child, or ruthlessly kick her to the curb?

Riddled with extreme suspicion, Ivy slowly lifted her gaze to meet his.

"She's your ex-wife. I don't know the first thing about her. How am I supposed to have any thoughts on her?"

The moment the words left her mouth, Alaric's brow knitted into a fierce scowl.

He honestly couldn't believe this foolish girl was blind enough to look at that average woman and immediately assume she was his ex-wife.