From His Invisible Wife to the World's Icon novel Chapter 142

Sierra ran over, panting heavily as she reached Frederick.

She watched as he took off his suit jacket and rolled his white dress shirt sleeves up to his elbows, revealing the smooth, strong lines of his arms. With both hands resting on the handles of the jet ski, he exuded a strong, youthful energy. He looked at her with softened eyes. "What is it?"

In that moment, Sierra's heart pounded wildly.

"It's just..." The words died in her throat.

She had originally wanted to tattle and drive a wedge between the married couple.

But wasn't it better if Lydia left?

What she had just heard was thirteen days from now, leaving for a whole year!

Thirteen days from now was exactly when Frederick had promised to register their marriage.

And a year from now, she would have already given birth to Frederick's child.

A whole year of spending every waking moment together.

By the time Lydia returned, there definitely wouldn't be any place for her in Frederick's heart!

She grew even more excited than before. "Nothing. I was just thinking of playing a little longer before going to change."

"Frederick, take me for a ride."

"Alright."

Seeing her delicate hand enveloped by his strong, powerful one, he pulled her into his lap with a gentle tug. Feeling the solid chest behind her and the comforting warmth radiating from it, her face flushed with heat.

The jet ski sliced through the water.

She turned and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Frederick, I'm scared..."

Feeling the rhythmic rise and fall of the man's chest as he chuckled at her timidity, her heart was overflowing with love.

It wasn't just about beating Lydia anymore; she had truly fallen in love with this man!

In the restroom.

Hearing Sierra's distant screams and her repeated, soft cries of 'Frederick', Lydia frowned. "Mr. Ford, could you please not tell them that I'm Chloe?"

Her gaze landed on the man's hands.

He bent over, his long fingers weaving through the splashing water, the slight grease on his fingertips washing away in the stream.

Seeing him straighten up, she quickly handed him a paper towel from nearby.

Xavier took the tissue, but instead of drying his hands, he pressed it against a corner of his shirt.

There was a very faint trace of grease there, left when she had grabbed his sleeve earlier. Because it was a black shirt, she hadn't noticed, but now she felt a twinge of guilt.

The man's voice was icy as he looked down at her. "Give me a reason."

"I..."

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