From Discarded Wife to Queen (Tyrone) novel Chapter 138

Chapter 138 Giving Back

Aella angled her head, glanced at Tyrone, and still refused to speak.

Tyrone took out his phone, unhurried.

Forvaltel

“Aella, starving yourself won’t move me. If you won’t eat, I’ll call your parents and have them talk some sense into you.”

That threat finally got a reaction.

Her eyes were red, her lips trembling, and she finally managed to speak.

“Don’t drag my parents into this. I’ll eat.”

She tried to lift the plate, but her hands shook too hard to hold it steady.

Tyrone opened his mouth, chest cinched tight with a dull, breathless ache.

He’d been rough yesterday.

On instinct, he closed his hands around hers.

When he spoke again, his voice gentled without him noticing. “I’ll feed you.”

He fed her slowly, one careful spoonful at a time. Aella swallowed in big gulps.

Tears rolled, hot and heavy–part fury, part humiliation.

Her voice was shot; curses stuck in her throat.

She didn’t dare raise a hand, either.

She’d slapped him yesterday. She’d learned exactly what that got her.

They said nothing after that. The air pressed down, thick and airless.

Tyrone ignored her tears and fed her every last spoonful.

He set the plate down, pulled a tissue, and wiped the corner of her mouth.

When Aella stood, he yanked her in, one long–fingered hand gathering her hair off her shoulders.

His voice wasn’t loud, but it gave no room to argue. “Clause Nineteen in our marital agreement: if I plan for a child during the marriage–or if there’s an accidental pregnancy–the decision to

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12:19 Mon, Oct 13

Chapter 138 Giving Back

keep it or not rests with me.”

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Aella rasped, voice raw. “As long as I don’t carry, your and Zera’s child has a better shot at becoming official, doesn’t it?”

Their eyes met. Something flickered, fast, in Tyrone’s gaze.

He nodded. “You’re not wrong.”

Finished

He added, before the words had cooled, “But if you take the pill again, you tell me first. My say- so, then you take it. That’s the rule.”

With things this tense, they had no business bringing a child into it–he knew that.

Aella tore herself out of his arms with everything she had left.

She’d thought a heart ripped to shreds couldn’t hurt anymore.

But laid bare by his open provocation, it still did.

It was the holidays. If her parents learned what she and Tyrone had become, they wouldn’t sleep or cat for worry.

Tyrone came to the bed and offered a cup. “Emma made pear soup.”

Aella glanced at him, lay back, and shut her eyes.

He set the cup down and bent to lift her. “Even if you plan to fight with me, you need strength to do it.”

Just then, his phone rang.

He pressed the cup into her hands. “Emma spent hours making this for you. Have some.”

Aella sat there, quiet, cradling the cup, unmoving.

“Fight,” he called it. Truth was, she’d been the only one speaking while he flattened her.

She was at his mercy and had no leverage. All she could do was move a step at a time.

If he only yielded to softness, then from now on, she’d swallow her spine and do as he said.

Tyrone hesitated, then stepped out to take the call.

On the balcony, a woman’s voice came through the receiver–Zera. “Tyrone, on New Year’s Eve, you left

your wife on the roadside to stay with Orson. She didn’t pick a fight with you, did she?”

His grip tightened on the phone; his brow pulled hard. “Zera, what do you need?”

Urgent now, she said, “I have two sets of luxury skincare from a brand sponsor. I want to give them to your wife to apologize. Should you come get them, or should I bring them to her when I have time?”

“No,” he said flatly.

Zera wouldn’t let it go. “Tyrone, they’re top–shelf and too pricey for a small influencer like me. I can’t justify using them, and I’d hate to waste them. You and your wife have been so kind to us -this is just me giving back.”