Gold Digger vs Gold Saver My Man's Double Life novel Chapter 34

**Marriage Without Temperature by Mark Twain**
**Chapter 3**

Mrs. Cross set her fork down with a decisive clatter, her eyes narrowing as she regarded Victoria with a piercing gaze. “I can see right through your little schemes,” she declared, her voice dripping with disdain.

Victoria’s complexion drained of color, her expression morphing into one of shock and despair as tears began to pool in her eyes. “Mrs. Cross, I… I don’t know what you mean,” she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper, betraying her vulnerability.

“Don’t know?” Mrs. Cross let out a hollow laugh, the kind that sent chills down one’s spine. “I remember the first time Adrian brought you home from college. The moment you stepped through that door, your eyes were glued to our furnishings, practically devouring everything with your gaze.”

She leaned in closer, her voice low and venomous. “When you learned about the scale of our company, the greed was practically etched on your face! It was as if you couldn’t help but envision the wealth and power.”

Victoria trembled, her body shaking as she fought back the onslaught of tears threatening to spill over.

Adrian, witnessing his mother’s relentless attack on the woman he loved, slammed his hand down on the table, the sound reverberating through the room as he shot to his feet. “Enough!” he bellowed, his eyes blazing with fury as he glared at his mother. “It’s been years, and you’re still stuck in this mindset! You’re not looking out for me; you’re just trying to control my life!”

His voice was thick with emotion as he continued, “When you forced us to break up back then, Victoria fell into a deep depression because of it. Do you feel any guilt at all? Now that she’s finally on the mend, why do you insist on using such cruel words to hurt her?”

“Controlling you?” Mrs. Cross’s body shook with rage, her face flushed.

“If I truly wanted to control you, I would never have allowed Elena to endure the fallout of your bankruptcy alongside you! You ungrateful wretch, have you forgotten who clawed their way out of hell with you?”

“I haven’t forgotten!” Adrian’s voice rose to a fever pitch, his eyes glistening with unshed tears as he shouted, “I will spend my entire life repaying Elena’s kindness! But that doesn’t mean I can’t make things right with Victoria!”

With that declaration, he reached for the still-shaking Victoria, and without a backward glance, he stormed toward the door, determination etched on his face.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Mrs. Cross’s voice rang out, sharp and accusatory.

“I can’t stay in this house any longer!” he shouted, the door swinging shut behind him with a resounding thud as he left with Victoria in tow.

Throughout the entire confrontation, he had not once looked in my direction, not even a fleeting thought of taking me with him.

“Elena, don’t pay him any mind—let him go to hell!” Mrs. Cross was practically seething, her grip tightening around my hand. “Stay here tonight. Mom will have a drink with you,” she offered, her voice softening slightly, as if trying to lure me into her web.

I shook my head firmly and stood up, my resolve strengthening. “Mom, I really should go back,” I insisted, my heart heavy.

This dispute was between Adrian and me. I couldn’t bear the thought of being the reason for a complete rift between him and his mother.

In the courtyard, Adrian’s car was still parked, its sleek form glinting under the streetlights. He leaned against the door, his impatience palpable as he checked his phone repeatedly—clearly waiting for my arrival.

So, he hadn’t completely forgotten about me after all.

I walked slowly towards him, my heart racing with a mix of emotions.

“Adrian!” I called out softly, but he was already looking up, his expression darkening further at my delayed appearance.

“What took you so long? Let’s go!” he snapped, opening the door and sliding into the driver’s seat with an exasperated sigh.

This was a wealthy suburb on the city’s outskirts—public transportation was virtually nonexistent at this hour, and hailing a cab was out of the question.

Adrian pounded the steering wheel in frustration. “The hospital and home are in opposite directions! I don’t have time to drop you off—Victoria’s condition is critical! Figure out your own way back!”

With that, he slammed on the gas, leaving me standing there, choking on the exhaust fumes as he sped away.

I found myself alone in the empty street, the night wind biting at my skin, as the chill seeped into my bones.

“Figure it out,” he had said, as if it were the simplest thing in the world.

Yeah, I had been figuring it out for years now.

Pulling out my phone, I dialed his personal driver. “Mr. Miller, could you please pick me up at the estate?”

Ten minutes later, Mr. Miller’s car pulled up, and he looked surprised to see only me. “Ms. Martinez, where’s Mr. Cross? Wasn’t he supposed to return with you for dinner?”

I climbed into the car, my voice flat as I replied, “Emergency at the company. He left early.”

Inside, I couldn’t help but let out a cold laugh—busy tending to his precious first love.

Shortly after I got home, my phone chimed with a new message. I opened it, and my heart raced as I saw the image: Adrian, sprawled on a hotel bed, sound asleep in a bathrobe!