Swapping a Broken Heart for a New Start novel Chapter 483

Sandra Taylor had no time to pay attention to all the online gossip swirling around.

Ever since Jordan Smith came back home, she’d put the whole Camila Davis situation aside and decided it was time to focus on her own plan—getting pregnant.

After all, if she had a baby, she wouldn’t have to worry about a thing.

She waited until Jordan went to take a shower, then spritzed herself with her favorite vanilla perfume, lit a cinnamon-scented candle, and dimmed the bedroom lights to just the right golden glow for a cozy, seductive mood.

Once everything was set, she slipped into a sexy silk nightgown and stretched out on the bed, waiting for Jordan to come out.

It took forever, but when he finally finished up in the bathroom, Jordan didn’t even glance at her lying there.

He ran a towel through his hair, checked his phone, and took a call. Then, as he scrolled through his notifications, his eyes caught a trending story.

He tapped it open, and there it was—people online analyzing that huge drone light show from last night.

Staring at the pictures again, Jordan’s grip on his phone tightened until his knuckles turned white.

He was almost certain now: that extravagant drone show had been someone else’s grand gesture for Camila Davis.

His eyes clouded over with frustration, a storm brewing in his chest.

It hadn’t even been that long since their divorce, and Camila was already out there, front and center, accepting attention from another man.

Did she forget she was a mom now? How could she be so shameless…

Jordan’s face turned cold as stone.

Just then, Sandra slipped up behind him, her breath warm at his neck, her voice sultry as she whined, “Jordan, what are you looking at? You’ve been ignoring me lately…”

She wrapped her arms around him, pressing herself close. It didn’t take long before Jordan, still fuming, let himself get swept up by her touch and made love to her with a roughness Sandra secretly enjoyed.

She clung to him, loving his intensity, even if she had no idea what brought it on.

By the end, she felt like she’d been hit by a truck—her bones practically rattled apart.

Jordan barely looked at her, just cleaned up and went straight to sleep.

Sandra stared at him, confused. What was going on with him?

She remembered the way he’d checked his phone before everything changed. When he finally drifted off, she snuck over, grabbed his phone, and peeked at the screen.

The photos from that drone show were right there.

Again—with Camila Davis.

So, all this time, was Jordan thinking about someone else while he was with her?

Was he picturing Camila Davis instead?

Sandra’s whole body shook with anger.

Why was it always Camila Davis?

That woman—she was everywhere, even after the divorce.

One day, Sandra swore, she’d drag her right back down into the mud.

St. Jude’s had done this kind of thing before—their charity programs were well-oiled machines.

And with the Wilson Foundation’s support, the project was expanding in scope.

Everyone reviewed the proposal and, after a few minutes, agreed there was nothing to change.

With unanimous support, the meeting wrapped up in under an hour.

By ten o’clock, St. Jude’s had launched an official account and posted details about the new charity project: the areas they’d be supporting, and the plan for the next three months.

This time, the outreach wasn’t just for low-income neighborhoods—it would help kids with chronic illnesses, too.

A few tech companies—NextGen Technologies, for one—were joining as donors and would serve as independent auditors. Every cent spent would be transparent and reported online.

The comments section exploded with praise.

“St. Jude’s always delivers. I know that money will help people who really need it!”

“No wonder they’ve been trusted for generations—St. Jude’s has real integrity.”

“True heroes! Mr. Morris, you’re a legend!”

“Hope St. Jude’s keeps going for centuries. May more people find health and hope.”

“This story gives me chills. I want to help, too!”

“I’m in med school—if you need volunteers, count me in!”