The Irretrievable Lover

The night was still and quiet.

Ava Davis was troubled, tossing and turning in restless sleep, mumbling incoherently.

Feeling a hand on her waist, she deliberately shifted toward the edge of the bed. Just as she was about to fall asleep, she was pulled back.

Ava stubbornly moved away again, only to be forcefully pressed back into the man's arms.

This went on, back and forth.

The man's desire to dominate was successfully awakened. His hand was no longer content to rest on her waist—it became bolder.

Ava woke up completely. She grabbed his lean, strong arm and tried to push him away, pleading with tears in her voice,

"I really don't want to tonight."

In three years of marriage, gentle and obedient had been her defining traits. This was the first time she'd ever refused his needs.

William Morgan ignored her completely, rolling over on top of her. He pulled open her collar, his domineering kisses trailing down her smooth shoulder.

Her resistance was useless.

Ava's eyes were empty, her whole body numb as she endured his thrusts, tears flooding out like a dam had burst.

Only in the darkness did she allow her tears to flow freely.

...

A few hours earlier, Ava had gone to a bar to deliver something to William's sister. On her way back, she'd been robbed.

The two thugs showed no interest in her designer bag, jewelry, or even her wallet. They only took her wedding ring and tried to drag her into a dark alley to assault her. It didn't seem like a robbery—more like a planned sexual assault.

If a police officer hadn't happened to pass by, tonight would have been her last.

She crouched on the curb, clutching her torn clothes, trembling as she dialed William's number. A sweet, flirtatious female voice came through the phone,

"William's in the shower. What do you need him for?"

That voice was sugary and smooth—both a question and a claim of ownership.

The faint sound of running water came through the phone like a bolt from the blue. Ava was struck speechless. She silently put her phone away and cried uncontrollably under the streetlight.

That voice wasn't unfamiliar to Ava. It was Sarah Brown, the woman William held closest to his heart. She was back.

After hanging up, Sarah sent a taunting message—just one simple sentence with an attached image:

[The one who isn't loved is the other woman.]

The image was an ultrasound report, six weeks pregnant, and the gestational sac was clearly visible.

Thinking back to over a month ago, William had gone on a business trip to Lumaria for a week. The timing matched perfectly.

He must be really looking forward to their baby.

Too much was happening. Ava's brain couldn't handle it all.

The police officer who'd saved her kept echoing in her ears,

"Those two men were hired by someone. We haven't gotten them to say who yet. Did you offend someone?"

Ava was horrified. Who would want to hurt her? She was just a housewife who rarely went out. Who could she have offended? Thinking it over, there was only one person who could hate her this much.

Ava's mind wandered, her heart aching to the point of numbness.

William's force intensified, as if punishing her for being distracted.

"Sarah's back in the country. Our contract's almost up anyway. Let's find a time to handle the divorce."

Hearing him say it out loud, Ava's heart clenched violently, the pain suffocating.

She'd known he would end this relationship eventually, but she hadn't expected it in this setting—doing the most intimate thing while talking about another woman.

The coldness and cruelty of men were just like this.

'William, I'm not made of stone. I have feelings too.'

Ava trembled uncontrollably beneath him. She tried hard to keep her voice from breaking,

"Well, congratulations to you both. Lovers are finally together."

In the darkness, Ava spoke her insincere blessing, her eyes wet. Sure enough, falling in love with someone unworthy made her this pathetic, this trampled on.

The next morning, when Ava woke up, William was already gone from the bed.

He was extremely disciplined, more than most people. No matter how late he went to bed, he got up on time every morning—working out, eating breakfast, watching the news, like a machine running on a fixed program.

After a quick wash, Ava went downstairs. The morning news was on TV, reporting on last night's attempted sexual assault.

William sat in the breakfast nook, his black shirt sleeves rolled up, revealing a forearm with smooth muscle definition. His broad shoulders filled out the shirt perfectly, just like his sharp-edged personality—never willing to spare her a bit of warmth.

His left hand held a financial magazine, his right hand a freshly made sandwich. He showed no concern for the disturbing news on TV, his whole demeanor radiating an unapproachable coldness.

The housekeeper, Lily Martin, saw Ava coming downstairs and asked with a smile, "Would Mrs. Morgan like pasta or a sandwich today?"

Ava pressed her lips together. "Whatever. Lily, from now on, you should probably call me Ms. Davis instead."

Lily's smile froze on her face as she tried to figure out what that meant. Her eyes darted between William and Ava, not daring to respond.

"Whatever she wants."

William replied coldly, his eyes fixed on his magazine, not even looking up.

Halfway through the meal, William got up and left. About a minute later, he tossed two divorce agreements and a check onto the table.

"Sign this. Fill in whatever amount you want on the check."

Ava paused, looking up to meet his eyes—deep as black obsidian.

He was the heir to the Morgan Group, controlling Emerald City's economic lifeline. A force in the business world, never showing anyone mercy.

And she'd tried to make him fall in love with her, tried to get some love from him.

How ridiculous.

Ava picked up the pen and went straight to the last page, writing her name without reading a single word of the content.

"When should we go handle the paperwork?"

She asked.

A flash of displeasure crossed William's eyes.

"You're that eager?"

Ava took a bite of her sandwich. It tasted like wax. Her expression was blank, but inside her emotions were churning—the hidden storm barely contained. Even her breathing was shaky. She struggled to control her emotions, not wanting to show weakness, preserving her last shred of dignity.

"I don't want to delay you and Miss Brown."

William let out a cold laugh, took back the agreement, and signed his name with a flourish.

"You're probably just eager to go find your Joseph."