Divorcing My Husband Over His Stepsister's Secret novel Chapter 235

Chapter 235

Anna’s POV:

‘Where did you go? Why did you suddenly leave? Blake’s voice came through the phone, his tone ley but unable to hide his anxiety. I then ad away again.”

I stared at the rain outside the window, William’s words echoing in my mind.

1 originally wanted to understand Blake’s past to treat the symptoms, but after hearing what William had said, I began to wonder if Blake’s emotional instability wasn’t because he needed me, but because he was uneasy about me separating him from Claire

“How are you feeling now?” I simply asked.

Blake hesitantly answered, “How can I feel?”

His response deepened my suspicion: even if I left, Blake wouldn’t particularly care. “This was just his habitual need for control.

“I need some time alone,” I said, then hung up.

When saying goodbye to William, the silver–haired old man waved cheerfully from his hospital bed. “Don’t take Blake’s situation too seriously. My son isn’t that fragile. If he can’t handle this little issue, Wright Group would be finished!”

I smiled politely, but inside I was thinking: it was precisely because William never cared about his son’s feelings that Blake was in his current state.

Walking out of the room, the cold air in the hospital corridor, like the rainy day outside, sent a chill through me.

Walking out the hospital entrance, I found the sky growing darker, the rain coming down harder. My phone kept vibrating with calls from Blake, but I didn’t answer a single one.

Finally, I sent him a brief message: [Wait for me at Seaside Manor.]

Almost immediately, Blake replied: [My dad has already punished Claire. If there’s anything else you’re not satisfied with, you can tell me, and we’ll work it out.]

I stared at my phone screen as raindrops fell on it. I didn’t think I was dissatisfied, nor did I believe Blake would actually “work things out” with me.

I simply didn’t like Claire, but if Blake truly couldn’t separate from her, I wouldn’t hold onto the fantasy of separating them anymore.

I hailed a taxi, wondering: who could help Blake more–being with me for a day, or being with Claire?

This question became increasingly clear in my mind, while the answer grew more and more blurry.

“Fuck this rain!” I cursed, pushing open the door of a small bar on the street. Because of the bad weather, the bar was almost empty.

I sat at the counter, and the enthusiastic bartender recommended several specialty cocktails.

‘I’ll take the cocktail set,” I pointed randomly at a menu item, “the one with the discount.”

After two drinks, my thoughts began to drift. Maybe/Claire was snuggling in Blake’s arms right now, comforting each other, meeting each other’s needs. better than I could. The thought made my stomach/churn.

Just then, a slender hand suddenly covered my glass and snatched away my drink, downing it in one go. I looked up to see Ethan Hamilton lounging casually

by the bar.

“What’s wrong with you and Blake’s sister, always running off to bars to drink alone,” Ethan sat down beside me, flashing his trademark carefree smile. “Then looking at men with those eyes, it’s practically an invitation. But I should make it clear upfront, I’ve already given myself to Emily, so I’m not interested in

you.”

Despite claiming no interest, his blue eyes sparkled with obvious curiosity.

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Chapter 235

“Are all men this dishonest?” I asked, looking directly at him.

Ethan raised his hands. “I’ve got plenty of time today. Whatever you want to talk about, fnr game.

“Why can’t men just say what they’re thinking?” I rotated my glass. “They always do things that lead to misunderstandings, then auf innocent therwiði.

I felt confused. If my relationship with Blake was so fragile that it would crumble with Claire’s behavior mean? 1 felt completely stupid.

slightest appearance, then what did all thatë’s perden

Ethan suddenly pulled me toward the dance floor. In the empty space, he wrapped his arm around my waist and whispered, its because you haven’t been with enough men. If you had, you’d know some men can touch you without wanting anything, like me

He spun me around and continued, “Men are stupidly confident, thinking they can easily get any woman they want because you girls ratch feelings on fast. It’s about who’s tougher. Fall for him first, and you lose.”

My phone kept ringing non–stop. Ethan grabbed it and answered, “Hey, Blake Wright? Yeah, your wife’s here. He gave the address, then smonthly pivoted t discussing some Back Bay real estate project.

After hanging up, Ethan looked smug. “See? I know what I want better than you do.”

That made me think about what I really wanted. I’d made a huge mistake–pitying a man, wanting him happy and healthy, while forgetting to look after myself first.

Fifteen minutes later, Blake showed up, soaked through, his custom suit clinging to him, blue eyes bright with anger. Seeing me quietly drinking seemed to piss him off even more.

Blake grabbed my waist and practically carried me to his Bentley outside.

The second the door closed, he pushed me against the seat, his lips covering mine. I didn’t fight it but kissed him back, my fingers in his wet hair. The windows quickly fogged from our breathing.

The car suddenly felt like an oven. Blake yanked off his tie, tearing at his shirt buttons while I went for his belt. Rain pounding the windows drowned out our heavy breathing.

“Do you know how worried I was?” Blake growled, pushing my dress up. His fingers traced my thigh, making me shiver.

“Then prove it, I challenged, grabbing his shirt and pulling hard enough to pop buttons.

His tongue invaded my mouth, his grip on my waist tight enough to pruise. I bit his lower lip until I tasted blood.

“Fuck, Anna…” he groaned, lifting me onto his lap. The tight space limited us but intensified every touch.

When he entered me, I gasped, legs wrapped around his waist. Our movements grew more frantie, gasps and moans filling the car.

The windows were completely fogged, shutting out the world. We moved faster, venting all our frustrations in the most basic way.

Near the peak, I grabbed his hair, forcing him to look at me. Our eyes locked, all pretenses gone, leaving only raw need and dependence.

Afterward, we stayed tangled together, wet clothes sticking to us. Blake’s fingers gently traced my cheek, so different from his earlier roughness.

“Anna, don’t leave me,” he whispered.