You Cheated I Moved On novel Chapter 8

Rage coursed through Nick, making his whole body tremble.

“Honey, go get my phone! I’m going to ask James Crawford how he raised his daughter—and that Summers family, how they bred such a heartless wretch like Julian!”

“Mr. Sterling, I’m fine.” Chloe hurried to wipe away her tears, fearing the elderly man might overexert himself with anger. “I can handle this. Don’t worry about me.”

After much persuasion, Nick’s fury finally subsided.

He looked at Chloe affectionately, his voice soft. “You’re just too kind-tempered—that’s why those people dare to deceive you like this.”

Having watched Chloe grow up, he admired her gentle temperament and striking looks.

Only that blind fool from the Summers family could mistake a pearl for a worthless trinket, letting such a treasure be tarnished.

“Don’t worry. I won’t let myself be pushed around ever again,” Chloe said, her tone firm and resolute.

She stayed to chat with Nick for a while longer before leaving. Not once did she mention asking him to treat Lauren.

The weekend had been planned for a meal with Tatiana. They dined until 2 PM, and still no call from Lauren—a rare silence.

Confused, Chloe glanced at her phone, declined Tatiana’s invitation to keep shopping, and drove back to the Summers Manor.

Violent retching from Lauren echoed through the door before she stepped inside.

Chloe fell silent, doubt flickering across her face as she entered—Nick, an unexpected guest, sat in the living room.

A gloomy expression clouded Nick’s face as he sat on the sofa, back straight as a board.

Julian and Jane wore awkward looks while watching Lauren, and disgust practically dripped from Michael’s features. Chloe couldn’t help but laugh at the sight of Lauren.

Lauren clutched a bowl larger than her face, filled with black, murky soup.

Her face twisted in revulsion as she forced herself to drink, the air thick with a bitter, acrid stench.

Two big gulps stained her lips black.

“Dr. Sterling, do I really have to drink this? You only used to give me massages before,” she whined miserably.

Nick sat up straight on the sofa, his eyes closed in an expression of quiet authority. “Your condition was relatively mild before—regular massages sufficed. But now it has progressed, so a combination of massage and herbal treatment is necessary. This is a formula I developed specifically for asthma.”

“It’s disgusting!” Lauren retched again.

Jane hurried to hand her a trash can, and Lauren emptied her stomach into it.

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