The unwanted wife’s unexpected comeback

Chapter 1124:

Gemma’s forehead creased with concern. “Alicia, when will Corey be back?” Her voice trembled with the question.

Alicia didn’t know. Three days—that was what Corey had promised if everything went according to plan. But those three days had come and gone like autumn leaves in the wind.

“He’ll be back tomorrow,” Alicia found herself weaving a gentle lie. “Get better soon, Gemma, so you can welcome him home yourself.”noveldrama

“Will I still be alive when he returns?” Gemma’s question hung in the air like frost.

Alicia’s heart skipped a beat, her eyes widening. They’d guarded this secret so carefully—how could Gemma have known about her condition?

“I knew it from the first day, Alicia.” The words scraped past Gemma’s parched lips, each syllable draining what little strength she had left. Fighting back tears, Alicia squeezed Gemma’s delicate hand. “Hold on for the sake of your brother, Gemma. Just hold on a little longer.” Gemma nodded gently. But she was in so much pain, gasping for air. Her compromised immune system had betrayed her, spawning mysterious wounds and bruises that defied all treatment. Day by day, her frail form withered like a flower in winter.

“Gemma, just hold on a little longer,” Alicia whispered, her fingers tracing soothing circles on Gemma’s hand.

Gemma could have lived. But Pierre’s death had broken something deep inside her, pushing her to drain the artificial heart chip far too quickly. What should have been a gradual process, now felt like a race against time.

The artificial heart that had sustained her for a year was now failing in mere months. Was this Gemma’s fate or Corey’s? Who was truly paying the price for whose actions?

Corey had planned everything before he reached the family’s doorstep. He rang the doorbell, ready to step inside as an honored guest, only to later abduct the lady of the house.

After a long, heavy silence, the door creaked open. Corey paused, lowering his gaze.

A little girl, no older than four, stood there in a delicate floral dress. Her wide, innocent eyes sparkled as she looked up at him. “Hello. Are you here to see my dad?” she asked sweetly.

Corey, dressed in a sleek black trench coat, kept his expression neutral. In the coat’s pocket, his fingers curled around a silenced pistol. He stared at the little girl, momentarily unable to speak. Then, lowering himself to her level, he asked softly, “Is your mom home?”

The little girl smiled brightly and nodded. “Please wait right here. I’ll go get her.”

She turned and dashed off, her skirt fluttering like butterfly wings with each step.

Corey’s gaze lingered on her retreating figure as a memory rushed back to him. Four-year-old Gemma had been just like this girl, except her life had been far from carefree. She had suffered alongside him in the orphanage, often falling ill. No one wanted to adopt her, and her fragile condition only made her a target for bullies. But the young Gemma had been strong. Despite her frailty, she was always his protector. She would steal food for him, fend off stray dogs, and stand up to cruel adults with unwavering defiance.

.

.

.