Remarriage Failed Again Today

Aaron Wyatt stood by her side like a devoted guardian, occasionally asking her a question or tidying her hair. Annabelle Linton accepted his attentions placidly, without the slightest hint of reluctance.

They shared such a harmonious and easy rapport that it felt impossible for anyone else to intrude.

And yet with him, it seemed she’d turn hostile the second he stood beside her.

Leona Grant drank, glass after glass, overcome with the urge to destroy the entire world.

He slammed his glass down and sent a text to Annabelle Linton: "You have three minutes. Meet me by the sea, behind the villa."

Annabelle Linton was taking a sip of her drink when she saw the message. Her eyes darkened.

He hadn’t said anything explicit, but she could feel the palpable threat in his words.

Annabelle Linton put down her glass and gave Aaron Wyatt a faint smile. "I’m going to touch up my makeup."

"Okay. Just don’t wander off when you’re done, or I won’t be able to find you."

"Mhm." Annabelle Linton smiled faintly and walked toward the back of the villa.

Annabelle Linton walked out of the villa, stepped onto the sand, and moved forward in a daze.

It was dusk, and the setting sun elongated her graceful silhouette, bathing her in a unique, golden halo.

Annabelle Linton looked around her. The sea churned and surged, but the crashing waves didn’t inspire any sense of grandeur in her. All she felt was emptiness.

’If only I could leave this world,’ she thought, ’and get far, far away from all this conflict.’

She hated Leona Grant, and she hated this fate that left her completely at the mercy of others.

Annabelle Linton wearily closed her eyes.

Suddenly, a hand seized her arm. Annabelle Linton spun around to find herself staring into Leona Grant’s eyes, dark and deep as pools of water.

Before she could speak, his lips came crashing down on hers, domineering and silencing.

"MMPH! MMPH!" Annabelle Linton struggled.

Leona Grant wrapped an arm around her waist, his kiss turning fierce and forceful.

Annabelle Linton struggled, pounding her fists against him furiously.

But it was as if Leona Grant was determined to oppose her; the harder she struck, the harder he kissed.

When Leona Grant saw her reddened hands, a flicker of pain crossed his eyes.

He released her lips, only to pull her fiercely into his arms, holding her so tightly it was as if he wanted to fuse her into his very being.

The familiar scent of gardenias filled his senses. ’Holding her is like possessing the entire world.’

But his satisfaction in this moment was matched only by his sorrow.

’Annabelle Linton, why? Why won’t you even spare me a single glance?’

Annabelle Linton hated his touch and struggled a few times, but Leona Grant only held her tighter.

She took a deep breath, her eyes still closed as she spoke, her voice ice-cold. "Let me go."

"No." Leona Grant’s grip tightened. "You’re my wife. I’ll hold you whenever I want, and I’m not letting go."

His words nauseated Annabelle Linton. "Let me go!" she yelled, her face a mask of impatience.

Leona Grant’s own anger flared.

’He’d dropped everything at work and come all this way to find her, only to see her with another man and overhear all that nonsense.’

’Nonsense about her marrying Aaron Wyatt, about the two of them being a match made in heaven.’

’So where did that leave him?’

’If she married Aaron, what was he supposed to do?’

"I’m not letting go! Why should I? If Aaron Wyatt can hold you, why can’t I?"

Annabelle Linton shoved him away, her face filled with disgust. "Leona Grant, why do you always have to come and bother me! I thought I could finally have a few months of peace. Why must you be so detestable!"

"Annabelle Linton, how can you be so heartless! I came all this way to see you, and what do I find? You, having a secret rendezvous with another man! Do you even acknowledge me as your husband?!"