Chapter 256: Miss Hughes, are you alright?

Chapter 256: Chapter 256: Miss Hughes, are you alright?

BEEP. BEEP.

The call ended abruptly.

Bella Thorne stared at the dark screen, her eyelashes trembling as her nose began to sting.

’She knew it all too well. Whenever Justine Hughes was involved, she would always be his last priority.’

’She understood, of course, but each time it was proven true, her heart still throbbed with a dull ache.’

...

「Portclyde. A private high-rise apartment.」

Tristan Forrester helped Justine Hughes to her feet and settled her onto the sofa.

His gaze fell on the scrape on her knee, and his brow furrowed.

"How could you be so careless?"

"I just missed a step. I’ll be more careful next time," Justine Hughes said softly, her gaze lowered.

"Where is the first-aid kit?"

"Under the TV stand."

Tristan Forrester retrieved the first-aid kit, taking out antiseptic, cotton swabs, and a bandage. He knelt on one knee before her and carefully cleaned the wound.

Justine Hughes gazed at his handsome, focused profile, her expression growing distant.

’For a moment, it was as if she was back in the passionate days of their romance.’

’She remembered spraining her ankle while hiking. His eyes had been filled with nothing but worry and tenderness as he carefully treated her injury before carrying her all the way down the mountain on his back.’

’Back then, that gentle affection had been hers and hers alone.’

"Tyson..." Justine Hughes began softly, her tone carefully probing. "You’ve been married to Miss Thorne for two years. Are you happy?"

Tristan Forrester stopped what he was doing and stood up straight. He looked down at her, his eyes cold and impassive.

"That’s a private matter between my wife and me. What right do you have to ask?"

Justine Hughes’s face paled, but she forced a smile. "As a friend. I just wanted to know if you’re doing okay."

"I’m doing fine." Tristan Forrester’s tone was cold and distant. "I’ve already arranged for someone to look after you for the next two weeks. Just focus on your surgery. After the operation, go straight back to New York. Don’t return to Portclyde."

His distant attitude drew a clear line between them.

Justine Hughes’s eyes instantly reddened, and her voice caught in a sob.

"Tyson, I’ve been thinking about our past every single night lately. We were so in love. For the past two years, I’ve thrown myself into my career, chasing fame and fortune. It looks like I have everything, but I feel a huge emptiness inside."

"I regret it."

She looked up at him, her eyes brimming with tears. "I still love you. And I know you’ve never gotten over me. Your marriage to Bella Thorne was just an arrangement forced on you by Grandpa Forrester. There are no feelings between you!"

Tristan Forrester’s cold voice shattered her fantasy.

"I’m married. The Forresters don’t divorce; we become widowed."

"You were the one who gave me up to choose your future. Since you made your choice, don’t regret it!"

"But I do regret it!" Justine Hughes limped toward him, wrapping her arms gently around his waist in a desperate plea. "Can we please start over? This mistaken marriage is unfair to you, and it’s unfair to her!"

Tristan Forrester raised his hands, grabbing her arms and forcefully prying them off him. His dark eyes locked onto hers.

"Justine."

"We’re long over."

"I’m helping you for the sake of what we used to have. That’s it."

"Impossible!" Justine Hughes swayed, her eyes red and tear-filled. "If you don’t love me, why do you keep helping me, protecting me?"

Tristan Forrester’s words were clear and his tone absolute, leaving no room for doubt.

"It’s her I love now!"

His words struck Justine Hughes like a clap of thunder.

The color drained from her face instantly. She froze, all the pride and confidence she had crumbling away.

’How could that be?’

’The man who had loved her so deeply just two years ago... had fallen in love with someone else in such a short time?’

’For the past two years, she had been abroad, desperately practicing her dance, performing, scheduling her every moment so she would have no time for idle thoughts, no room for regret.’

’She had thought that even his marriage was just an act of spite, a way to force her to regret her choice and come back to him.’

’She believed that if she just came back, he would be waiting right where she left him.’

’But now he was saying he didn’t love her anymore. That he had fallen in love with Bella Thorne.’

Resentment, jealousy, madness, and spite coiled like venomous snakes, gnawing at her insides.

’She would never admit defeat.’

’Tristan Forrester could only be hers.’

...

Bella Thorne had assumed Tristan Forrester’s last words were just something he said offhandedly.

’This time, she wouldn’t stare at her phone, waiting for a call that might never come. She wouldn’t make a complete fool of herself!’

Lying under the soft covers, a chill seeping into her, she closed her eyes and forced herself to sleep.

In the dead of night, she tossed and turned, unable to sleep. She stared at the swaying shadows of the trees outside her window, her heart a desolate wasteland.

She didn’t know how long she’d been lying there, but just as drowsiness finally began to wash over her, the ringing of her phone shattered the silence.

She mechanically picked up her phone and glanced at the screen. When she saw the caller ID, she froze.

’It had to be a hallucination. Had Tristan Forrester really called her back?’

’This time, he hadn’t lied!’

Snapping out of it, she immediately answered the call.

"Hello..."

"Did I wake you?" the man’s deep voice came through.

"No, I’m still awake." She suppressed the turmoil in her heart and asked tentatively, "Is Miss Hughes... all right?"

"The surgery time has been set. I just dropped her off at her apartment, and now I’m on my way home."

Bella Thorne froze.

’Was he... voluntarily telling her his whereabouts?’

"Why aren’t you talking?"

When she didn’t answer for a moment, Tristan Forrester asked in a low voice.

"Grandpa Forrester’s last round of treatment is finished. We can come back to Portclyde in a few days."

"Let me know when the plans are set, and I’ll pick you both up from the airport."

"Okay."

Bella Thorne bit her lip, hesitating. "Tyson, about Miss Hughes..."

’She wanted to ask if he still had lingering feelings for Justine Hughes.’

’If he did, she could step aside. She could let them be.’

’But after loving him for so many years, she just couldn’t bear to let go.’

"Don’t let your imagination run wild. She and I are long over," Tristan Forrester said in a low voice, as if he could read her mind. "Start a video call. I want to see you."

Bella Thorne was caught off guard. "N-now?"

"Yes."

A second later, the WhatsApp video call connected.

On the screen, the man sat inside a car. The top two buttons of his white shirt were casually undone, giving him an air that was at once reserved and aristocratic, mature and alluring.

The passing neon lights flickered across his sharply defined profile. The play of light and shadow created a tense, captivating, and utterly breathtaking image.

Bella Thorne had always been powerless against his looks.

Every time she saw him, her heart would skip a beat.

"Like what you see?"

Even without looking at the screen, he could feel her blatant stare.

Bella Thorne’s cheeks flushed. "Very handsome."

The car stopped at an intersection for a red light.

Tristan Forrester glanced at her on the screen. Her hair cascaded down like a waterfall, and her face was bare of makeup. She looked incredibly sweet.

"Did you miss me?"

’As if he didn’t already know!’

Bella Thorne tried to sound tough, but her voice lacked conviction. "No..."

"Oh, really?" Tristan Forrester raised an eyebrow, a smile playing in his dark eyes. "Just wait until you get back. We’ll see how I punish you then."

...

「The next day.」

The project’s promotional conference was held as scheduled.

Gwen Grayson took full command, her demeanor poised and proper, her actions measured. With well-known models specially invited to add to the prestige, the entire press conference proceeded smoothly. It was a high-class affair that earned rave reviews.

Not only did she perfectly capitalize on the project’s existing buzz, but she also secured several large partnership deals on the spot. The results were outstanding.

During a break, she immediately called Vesper Grayson to share the good news.

Vesper Grayson listened patiently on the other end of the line.

"You did a great job. You’re more than capable of taking over my position."

"Vesper, you’re stepping down?" Gwen Grayson asked, suddenly tense.

"I’ll be on leave during my pregnancy and then have my postpartum confinement period. I’ll be away for too long," Vesper Grayson said with a faint smile. "Grayson Corporation can’t be left without a leader. This is the perfect opportunity for you to solidify your position."

"I can handle the work! We’ll keep the position open for you!"

"Gwen, I also have my own businesses and projects to manage."

’Taking it a little easier wouldn’t necessarily be a bad thing.’

’Once the baby is born, she’ll need time to be with them.’

She changed the subject. "How have Mom and Dad been getting along lately?"

"Great. Dad moved back into the master bedroom."

"Can you help me arrange a dinner for both our parents this weekend?"

Though Gwen Grayson didn’t understand why, she readily agreed.

"Okay."

...

「Khemara. A dungeon in an underworld compound.」

Deep underground, in the damp and darkness, daylight was a foreign concept.

The air was thick with the foul, nauseating stench of blood, mold, and rust.

Yvonne Lowell huddled in a cold, dark corner, a pathetic, disheveled sight.

Strands of matted hair clung to her pale, sweat-slicked cheeks. Her face was filthy and gaunt, her cracked, peeling lips utterly colorless.

For several days, not a drop of water or a grain of rice had passed her lips.

Ever since being dragged into this Purgatory on earth, she had resisted and struggled, but all she got in return were endless beatings and brutal humiliation.

Three days ago, the compound’s operators had tried to force her to "entertain" a client. When he began to molest her, she had grabbed a wine bottle to defend herself and smashed it over his head.

This had thoroughly enraged the compound’s bosses. She had been thrown into this sealed, sunless dungeon like a sack of dead weight.

Day and night were indistinguishable; each day felt like a year.

’She had only ever heard about the darkness and cruelty of these overseas criminal compounds on the news. She never imagined she would one day find herself trapped in one.’

’This was a devil’s den that devoured people whole. Once inside, there was virtually no escape.’

Utter despair washed over her. She slowly closed her sore, bloodshot eyes, a dead calm settling in her heart.

Just then, the sound of heavy, shuffling footsteps grew closer, finally stopping just outside the dungeon’s iron door.

Yvonne Lowell’s body went rigid. Her eyes snapped open, filled with sheer terror as she stared, transfixed, at the iron gate—the gate to hell—that was about to open.