The Cherished Wife

Wife 48

Charles burned the midnight oil, wrapping up his workload before stashing it away. He sparked up a cigarette and stepped out onto the balcony, gazing Into the Inky vold that shrouded Phoenix Tree Residence. As the last wisp of smoke from his cigarette faded, he released it, his intense eyes cutting through the night like beacons.

He swung by the master bedroom, where Noelle was put like a light. He kept watch like a silent sentinel to keep her from tossing and turning.

He peered down at Noelle from his vantage point. The flush that had painted her cheeks was gone, leaving her looking serene and exquisite. Charles had clocked her as a knockout from the get–go, but her natural beauty caught him off guard.

A chuckle escaped him as he gently flicked the quilt. There she was, all askew in her slumber, a far cry from her usual buttoned–up facade. Maybe the night was too warm, or maybe it was just her habit, but she had kicked off her covers, baring her silky shoulders to the cool air.

Charles’s gaze darkened, his breath quickening with a rush of emotion. He looked down at Noelle, still lost in slumber, and then at himself, feeling a twinge of self–loathing.

Ever since this girl came into his life, he found himself. losing control.

The phone by the window buzzed loudly, piercing the quiet of the night.

With a secretive glint in his dark eyes, Charles strode over and picked up Noelle’s phone. It was lit up several missed calls–not just from Samuel and Sebastian, but also from Xavier.

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A mischievous smile played on Charles’s lips as he silenced the phone, letting it blink on in the darkness.

He always enjoyed a bit of mischief!

Noelle’s sleep was anything but peaceful. At first, she felt like she was on fire, then as if she was freezing in an icebox. It was only when she finally warmed up that she began to feel lighter, more at ease.

For some reason, she felt a persistent light behind her a gaze that seemed to pierce through her, leaving her restless even in her dreams.

When she opened her eyes, she was greeted by an unfamiliar room bathed in white. For a moment, her mind was foggy, her eyes taking in the strangeness that made her feel uneasy, especially with the room steeped in a distinctly masculine scent.

Realizing something was off, Noelle quickly threw back the covers and saw what she was wearing.

Her black cocktail dress was nowhere to be found, replaced by a white shirt that was clearly a man’s. Noelle swam in the fabric of the shirt that was way too big for her, the hem hanging comically down to her thighs. She looked down at herself, her mind foggy, taking its sweet time to piece together the reality of her situation.

Shaw family’s swanky villa. That was Just yesterday, she had been at her grandpa’s birthday party at the when Winter started stirring up trouble, and her own dad pulled her aside. What followed was a blur. She was drugged and handed over to Samuel, and then… Charles’s face flashed in her mind. Was he the one behind it all?

The memories of the previous night crept back, painting Noelle’s face a ghostly shade as a shiver ran

through her.

She had always known her parents played favorites, but deep down, she clung to the belief that they were still her flesh and blood. Never in her wildest dreams did Noelle imagine they would throw her to the wolves, trading her for Winter’s sake, for Helios, all for two hundred million.

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