Tonight Her Love Ended novel Chapter 32

Everyone wanted to see just how long this man's promise of "a lifetime" to this woman would actually last.

"In the century since the 'Solitaire' collection was launched, only eighteen powerful billionaires have ever custom-ordered it for their wives or fiancées before Mr. Forrester. And without exception, every single one of them lived happily ever after!"

A one-of-a-kind love, forever... he would only ever love Yvette.

The love Tristan gave Yvette was just that glaringly obvious.

Nova offered a faint smile and looked away. "Pack it up. Deliver it in three days. I've inspected everything. These items will not pass through my hands again, and they will be under strict surveillance the entire time. Whoever damages them takes the blame."

With everything settled, Nova's top priority now was figuring out how to resign.

Corporate giants offered great benefits, but they were notoriously hard to get into, and even harder to leave.

Nova sighed, tossing and turning in bed, completely unable to sleep.

It was late in the night when a knock sounded at her door.

It was Martha. "Sir is back."

Because her small apartment hadn't been fully cleaned out yet, and the banquet was imminent, Tristan had demanded she stay at Clearwater Manor to be on standby at all times.

But Nova hadn't expected the man, who rarely ever came home, to actually show up.

"Okay," Nova replied flatly, offering no other reaction.

In the past, whenever she heard those words, she would excitedly run downstairs to greet him. No matter how cold Tristan was toward her, she would always try her best to be a little ray of sunshine, desperately trying to melt the ice around him.

But now, they were on the verge of divorce. There was no point in wasting her emotions or energy anymore.

Martha hadn't expected such a dismissive reaction. Remembering how Nova had slapped Yasmin Forrester, Martha didn't dare yell at her directly, but swallowed her anger and said, "Sir wants you to make a bowl of noodles and bring it to the study."

Martha pointed down the hall. "Still lying in bed! She came back and just laid down. She doesn't take care of the house, doesn't go for walks, just acts completely lazy. With her being pregnant, she's going to have a terrible time when it's time to deliver."

The bedroom door was closed. Nova had just gotten up, dutifully choked down a pouch of the incredibly bitter herbal supplement Samuel had prepared for her, and was finally starting to feel a bit better. Just as she was drifting off to sleep, she heard the door swing open.

Words colder and harder than solid ice slammed into her: "It seems you never quite understand your place, do you?"

Nova opened her eyes. Her hair was messy, and her clothes were wrinkled—a stark, almost pathetic contrast to the man's immaculate attire.

But the word "place" instantly reminded Nova of the custom jewelry he had ordered for Yvette—the "Solitaire" collection.

The "place" he was referring to obviously didn't mean being his wife.

"I've already finished my work. Does Mr. Forrester have any further instructions?"

Her strictly professional tone sounded more like a stubborn tantrum to him, causing the man's expression to darken completely. "Do I really need to remind you what the duties of a wife entail?"