She Was Never Just a Pretty Face novel Chapter 269

Moments later.

Luther half-dragged, half-carried her into the suite.

The suite was obscenely massive, sprawling over six hundred square meters.

The sky hadn't completely darkened yet.

Through the floor-to-ceiling windows, the stunning evening skyline was in full view.

The clouds burned so brilliantly red it hurt the eyes.

The man stood by the towering glass, staring out in silence. He began speaking in a low hum to the woman huddled on the sofa—as if speaking to her, yet simultaneously confessing to the 'deceased' Hilda Cassidy.

"My wife and I met on a cruise ship. I fell overboard, and she saved my life, but I was fooled into believing it was her half-sister who had saved me. My grandmother adored her and ordered me to date her and marry her. I resisted the entire time, but I ultimately gave in and married her anyway. I often think that if I had just stood my ground and refused to marry her, she might have been heartbroken, but she probably would have lived a long, happy life! Because she was a fiercely brilliant artist. You've heard of The Bibliophile—a single painting of hers is worth millions."

"After we got married, I treated her horribly."

"I dumped her in our marital home and left her to rot."

"We never fully consummated the marriage on our wedding night, but my wife ended up pregnant. I convinced myself the baby wasn't mine, so when our paths crossed again, I toyed with her, keeping her around just for sick amusement. Even after I found out the baby was actually my flesh and blood, I still wavered—and ultimately chose Jolie Lovell, her sister. It was only after the divorce was finalized that I found out my wife was pregnant again. But by then, she had already married my own cousin, Harrell. They lived blissfully together in Havenworth City while I went through with marrying Jolie. But that delayed wedding brought me zero joy. I couldn't even figure out who I truly loved anymore. And right then, in the middle of my own wedding, someone exposed the truth: Jolie wasn't the one who had saved me from drowning. The one who dragged me out of that ocean was always my wife, Hilda—the woman I had loathed and betrayed. Jolie was far from the innocent angel I thought she was; she had lived a completely wild, promiscuous life while studying abroad. I was consumed by a tidal wave of regret, but the damage was irreversible. Because Hilda had married Harrell Judson, and my unborn child in her womb was just days away from being born. I flew out to Havenworth City that exact same day just to spy on her. She and Harrell were absurdly happy. Like a possessed man, I stayed in Havenworth City until she gave birth to a baby boy. Landon. Back then, he was named Landon Judson—Harrell was the one who named him."

"I thought my chance with her was gone for this lifetime."

"But what I didn't expect was that because I demanded a divorce, Jolie set out to murder Hilda. Except Harrell was the one driving that day. Harrell was crushed into a vegetative state, potentially locked in a coma forever. I utilized the most despicable tactics imaginable to steal my wife back. I forced her to return to my side. She brought Annie back to me but left Landon in Havenworth City, because she was deeply in love with Harrell and didn't want the Judson family bloodline to die out. But no one could have predicted that Harrell would wake up. They plotted to elope—and how could I possibly tolerate that?"

...

The sun sank below the horizon.

The city's nightlights began to flicker on, blurring the line between earth and sky.

And the man remained utterly submerged in the grief of his past.

Joyce softly bit her lower lip.

She was entirely engrossed in his story.

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