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The Discarded Wife Is A Billionaire
img img The Discarded Wife Is A Billionaire img Chapter 5 5
5 Chapters
Chapter 9 9 img
Chapter 10 10 img
Chapter 11 11 img
Chapter 12 12 img
Chapter 13 13 img
Chapter 14 14 img
Chapter 15 15 img
Chapter 16 16 img
Chapter 17 17 img
Chapter 18 18 img
Chapter 19 19 img
Chapter 20 20 img
Chapter 21 21 img
Chapter 22 22 img
Chapter 23 23 img
Chapter 24 24 img
Chapter 25 25 img
Chapter 26 26 img
Chapter 27 27 img
Chapter 28 28 img
Chapter 29 29 img
Chapter 30 30 img
Chapter 31 31 img
Chapter 32 32 img
Chapter 33 33 img
Chapter 34 34 img
Chapter 35 35 img
Chapter 36 36 img
Chapter 37 37 img
Chapter 38 38 img
Chapter 39 39 img
Chapter 40 40 img
Chapter 41 41 img
Chapter 42 42 img
Chapter 43 43 img
Chapter 44 44 img
Chapter 45 45 img
Chapter 46 46 img
Chapter 47 47 img
Chapter 48 48 img
Chapter 49 49 img
Chapter 50 50 img
Chapter 51 No.51 img
Chapter 52 No.52 img
Chapter 53 No.53 img
Chapter 54 No.54 img
Chapter 55 No.55 img
Chapter 56 No.56 img
Chapter 57 No.57 img
Chapter 58 No.58 img
Chapter 59 No.59 img
Chapter 60 No.60 img
Chapter 61 No.61 img
Chapter 62 No.62 img
Chapter 63 No.63 img
Chapter 64 No.64 img
Chapter 65 No.65 img
Chapter 66 No.66 img
Chapter 67 No.67 img
Chapter 68 No.68 img
Chapter 69 No.69 img
Chapter 70 No.70 img
Chapter 71 No.71 img
Chapter 72 No.72 img
Chapter 73 No.73 img
Chapter 74 No.74 img
Chapter 75 No.75 img
Chapter 76 No.76 img
Chapter 77 No.77 img
Chapter 78 No.78 img
Chapter 79 No.79 img
Chapter 80 No.80 img
Chapter 81 No.81 img
Chapter 82 No.82 img
Chapter 83 No.83 img
Chapter 84 No.84 img
Chapter 85 No.85 img
Chapter 86 No.86 img
Chapter 87 No.87 img
Chapter 88 No.88 img
Chapter 89 No.89 img
Chapter 90 No.90 img
Chapter 91 No.91 img
Chapter 92 No.92 img
Chapter 93 No.93 img
Chapter 94 No.94 img
Chapter 95 No.95 img
Chapter 96 No.96 img
Chapter 97 No.97 img
Chapter 98 No.98 img
Chapter 99 No.99 img
Chapter 100 No.100 img
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Chapter 5 5

Giselle tried to walk away. She really did. She took two steps toward the emergency wing.

But the image of the boy-Jamin-standing there alone, clutching a half-eaten lollipop, anchored her feet to the linoleum.

I don't like her.

The sentence echoed in her head, overlapping with the memory of the child she had lost. The child she thought had died in the chaos of her departure six years ago. If her baby had lived, he would be exactly Jamin's age.

She turned back.

Jamin was still there, looking at his shiny black shoes.

"Hey," she said softly.

His head snapped up. Hope flared in those dark eyes.

"You said your dad has headaches?" she asked, crouching down to his eye level again.

"Yeah," Jamin nodded vigorously. "Super bad ones. He locks himself in the dark room. He thinks I don't know, but I hear him groaning."

He reached into his tiny jacket pocket and pulled out a card. It wasn't a business card. It was a black American Express Centurion card.

"I can pay you," he said earnestly, holding it out with two hands. "I have lots of money. I can buy the whole hospital if you want."

Giselle stared at the heavy titanium card. It was absurd. It was heartbreaking.

"Put that away," she said gently, pushing his hand back. "I don't want your money."

"Then what do you want?" he asked, desperate. "I have a limited edition Optimus Prime?"

She smiled behind her mask. "Keep your robot. I just want you to promise not to run away from your guards again."

He nodded solemnly.

"Okay," she sighed. "I'll take a look at his chart. That's it. No promises."

Jamin squealed and threw his arms around her neck. He smelled like baby shampoo and sugar. He planted a wet, sloppy kiss on her masked cheek.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

Her heart squeezed. She stood up and took his hand. "Where is he?"

"VIP floor. The penthouse suite," Jamin said, tugging her toward the elevators.

We stepped into the elevator. The doors slid shut, enclosing them in a mirrored box.

Giselle looked at their reflection. The tall woman in the white coat, the small boy in the suit. There was something... harmonious about it. The curve of his jaw, the way he stood.

Stop it, she scolded herself. He is Joseph's son. He is the son of the man who ruined you.

But as the numbers on the display ticked upward-2, 3, 4... P-her anxiety wasn't about the past. It was about the immediate future.

She was about to walk into a room with Joseph Villarreal.

She hadn't seen him in six years. She had seen photos in magazines, of course. He looked colder, harder. More ruthless. Rumor had it he was injured during a hostile takeover attempt in Europe-a car bomb that should have killed him.

"Does your dad know you're bringing a doctor?" she asked.

Jamin bit his lip. "Um. Not exactly. He hates doctors. He throws things at them."

"Great," she muttered. "So I'm walking into a lion's den."

"Don't worry," Jamin squeezed her hand. "I'll protect you."

The elevator chimed. The doors opened to the VIP floor.

Two massive bodyguards stood at the end of the hall. They saw Jamin and relaxed visibly, then tensed again when they saw Giselle.

"Master Jamin," one of them said into his wrist mic. "We found him. He's with... a doctor."

Giselle took a deep breath. The air up here smelled different. Expensive. Sanitized.

"Come on," Jamin whispered.

She tightened her grip on his hand. She adjusted her glasses. She was Dr. Mandy. She was the heir to the Hines dynasty. She was not the scared girl in the rain anymore.

She could do this.

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