Filed to story: When His Wife Can’t Forgive
Gemma pointed ahead. “Why did that license plate change?” The license plate had shifted.
Pierre realized it was an electronic display, a sham. After several changes, it settled on FKCH13.
Gemma’s expression darkened. “How can Caden insult my brother like that? It’s excessive.”
Pierre, confused, asked, “When did Caden insult your brother?”
“The license plate says ‘F*** Corey Hampton,’ and 13 is considered unlucky.”
Pierre was at a loss for words. He glanced toward the building, intuiting Caden’s likely scheme, and remarked thoughtfully, “Mr. Hampton might be quite upset by now.”
Suddenly, the sound of ferocious dogs barking echoed from within the building, growing louder.
With a swift kick, Corey burst out the door, swearing.
But the dogs were relentless, and one lunged at Corey. Pierre sprang from the car, seizing the dog by the neck and pulling forcefully to intervene.
As Pierre tugged at the dog, its teeth remained clamped onto Corey’s belt.
With a sharp tug, there was a ripping sound as Corey’s pants split down the middle, revealing his black underwear.
Pierre froze for a moment, taken aback.
Corey’s face flushed with anger. “Damn it! What are you staring at? Look away!”
Pierre quickly averted his gaze and focused on managing the other dogs. Despite his efforts, he was outnumbered, and a few dogs managed to slip past him.
Corey tried to make do with his torn pants, but as soon as he turned, one of the loose dogs bit his backside. He cursed loudly, both in pain and frustration, as he struggled to pull the dog away, only for another to lunge at him from the front.
“Pierre!” Corey shouted, exasperated. “Are you blind? Can’t you see these dogs are attacking me?”
Pierre responded without turning back, “I can’t, Mr. Hampton. You told me not to look.”
Corey was left speechless.
By the time the ambulance arrived, Corey had managed to knock all the dogs unconscious. Exhausted and dizzy from the ordeal, he was helped onto a stretcher.
Gemma, deeply concerned for his well-being, cried uncontrollably and insisted on accompanying him in the ambulance.
Pierre had no choice but to follow.
In the ambulance, Corey managed to open his eyes and signal to Pierre.
Understanding what Corey wanted to do but feeling apprehensive, Pierre hesitated. “Mr. Ward is tough to handle. I might not manage it alone.”
Corey shook his head, trying to convey another message.
Pierre leaned in closer. “What did you say, Mr. Hampton?” Weakly, Corey responded, “Make sure no one sees the footage from that dog pen.”
Corey’s concern wasn’t about surviving the ambulance ride. It was that Caden must never see him in such a compromised position, especially not being bitten on the backside by dogs. Absolutely not.
As dusk fell, Caden accompanied Alicia to the town’s most celebrated restaurant.
After their meal, they strolled back to the once-vibrant Ward Mansion, which had grown silent and empty since Ciara’s move to Warrington.
Upon pushing open the grand doors, they were welcomed by a subtle floral scent. Fresh lilies, vibrant and well-cared-for by the afternoon’s attentive staff, contrasted with the pristine condition of the house.
Alicia took in her surroundings. Everything was new to her, yet this mansion had been Caden’s home for over a decade, his presence echoing through the space.
Caden leaned in, his voice soft. “Would you like to see my room?”
Alicia looked into his eyes, noticing a rare tenderness. Her heart warmed with curiosity. “Sure.”
Expecting minimalism, Alicia was surprised to find his room resembled a library. Bookshelves lined the walls, and a solitary desk by the window offered views of the verdant spring outside. Alicia perused the books: one wall held school textbooks and study materials, another technical resources from his professional life. Each book bore marks of Caden’s diligent study, his handwritten notes faintly visible.
Touching the book spines, she envisioned Caden immersed in his studies, her eyes growing tender. It became clear that geniuses like him worked tirelessly. At twenty-one, when he excelled in an international competition, all praised his natural talent, unaware of the effort behind his success.
Two other walls displayed trophies and machine parts Caden had designed, each item a milestone of his achievements. Moved by the tangible evidence of his journey, Alicia remained silent, absorbing the scene.
Noticing her tears, Caden smiled softly and brushed them away. “Why cry? Your husband has only known the trials of academic pursuit.”
Alicia shook her head, touched. “Studying is tough, and being consistently on top is even harder.”
She reflected on her own childhood, burdened with constant pressure, endless memorization, complex problems, lack of sleep, unpalatable supplements, and the emotional leverage wielded by her parents. Because she had experienced similar pressures, she felt a profound empathy for Caden.
Suddenly remembering something, she pushed Caden’s hand away somewhat petulantly. “But that doesn’t excuse you being a jerk.”
Caden chuckled at her combination of concern and irritation. “You were so pretty and carefree back then. I couldn’t stand seeing someone so openly happy.”
Alicia protested, “I wasn’t!”
Caden’s gaze darkened as he vividly remembered their first encounter. After his mother passed away during childbirth, his father brazenly brought his mistress and their child into their home, relegating him to a neglected existence.
At Caden’s mother’s funeral, his uncle nearly clashed with Jerald, but for the sake of peace, they refrained, eventually taking Caden back to Averibon, changing his name, and cutting ties with the Yates family.
His mother had chosen the name Caden, and he retained it, only altering his surname.
Following a year of grief and a hiatus from school, Caden regained his determination and transferred to the country’s top school. That was when he first met Alicia.
While the adults mingled, the children showed little interest. Caden, taller and colder than Alicia, eyed her disdainfully, surrounded by her doting parents. He had a deep-seated aversion to people who seemed overly happy. Particularly on the day they reunited at school, Alicia handed him candy.
The weather was gloomy, with dark clouds looming over the school. Despite Caden’s icy demeanor that repelled others, Alicia approached him, offering him candy. “My dad doesn’t let me have chocolate. My mom gave it to me in secret,” she said in her youthful voice, still resonant in Caden’s memory. “Here’s one for you. Let’s be friends.”
Phil had taught Alicia those words, and while she repeated them to everyone, she only shared candy with Caden. This act set off a chain of events that would influence their interactions for years.
Alicia, affected by the significant repercussions of Caden’s later actions, struggled to remember the candy. She questioned skeptically, “Did I really give it to you? My father always pushed me to be perfect, controlling even the smallest things like sweets. If I managed to get two candies, I’d keep it a secret. Why would I give one to you?”
Caden was firm in his response, “Yes, you did.”
“Did you eat it?” Alicia asked.
Caden paused, his eyes intently fixed on Alicia’s face. The silence that followed allowed Alicia to anticipate his answer.
Wanting no barriers between them, Caden confessed, “I didn’t eat it.”
Alicia wasn’t offended. Back then, her gesture had been one of simple compassion, without expectation of sentimental value. She queried, “So, what did you do with it? Throw it away or give it to someone?”
Cradling her face gently in his hand, Caden said, “I gave it to the stray dog.”
Alicia recoiled slightly. “Which dog?”
“The fattest one at the school.”
Alicia was shocked. “How could you? Chocolate is harmful to dogs!”
Caden’s mischievous streak surfaced as he replied, “The dog approached me first and seemed eager for a taste. What was I to do?”
He added swiftly, “Besides, the chocolate candy you gave me wasn’t anything special. It was just synthetic cocoa powder. That dog came back looking for more the next day.”
Alicia was at a loss for words, not sure how to respond. On the desk lay a thick photo album, which Alicia excitedly began to flip through.
There was only one chair in front of the desk, prompting Alicia to ask, “Want it?”
Caden raised an eyebrow. “Now?”
He checked the time, surmised that she had probably digested her dinner, and then drew the curtains closed.
Alicia, puzzled by his actions, watched as Caden began to unbutton his shirt and leaned in to kiss her.
Caught off guard, Alicia instinctively responded to his kiss, thinking it was just a tender moment.
However, it escalated quickly. Caden’s shirt ended up on the floor, and he lifted her onto the desk.
Startled, Alicia pushed him away. “What are you doing?”
Caden took her hand, guiding it toward his belt with a silent plea, whispering, “Fuck you.”
Alicia was stunned. How did things escalate so quickly? She tapped his chest, exasperated. “Why does it always have to be about sex? Move. I want to see the album.”
Caden was already in the mood, showing little interest in the photo album. He began to pull down his zipper.
Alicia promptly zipped it back up, feigning sternness. “Giving you a pass once or twice and now you’re pushing your luck? Aren’t you listening anymore?”
Realizing she wasn’t in the mood, Caden’s expression turned slightly sullen. “Didn’t you just say you wanted it?”
Alicia was taken aback. “When did I say that?”
“You just asked if I wanted it. Wasn’t that a hint?”
Alicia paused, her mind racing back through their conversation, then burst into laughter. “I was asking if you wanted to sit in the chair! What are you thinking?”
She lifted her leg, hiking up her skirt to show him the bruises from the previous night. “Look what you did to me last night. Why would I want that again?”
Caden lowered his gaze. Her gesture, though meant to deter him, inadvertently sparked his desire again. The zipper she had just pulled up slid down on its own.
Alicia was astonished.
Caden, seeing her tired from recent events, swallowed his desires and stood up, reluctantly zipping it up again.
Alicia smiled playfully, pouting.
Caden, still not fully appeased, adjusted her skirt. “Don’t provoke me later.”