Chapter 213
Celestine listened quietly, biting her lip and saying nothing. Doubt was written all over her face.
Dahlia, clearly annoyed by her attitude, snapped, “Do you really think my son is like those sleazy men who can’t keep their hands to themselves? Let me tell you, stop making a fool of yourself! When we open that door and see Chester, don’t you dare mention divorce again!”
During the days Celestine had been away, Joanna had taken every opportunity to visit Dahlia, showering her with kindness and attention. Celestine knew Joanna had ulterior motives, but since she was offering herself so willingly, why should she refuse? It wasn’t as if she’d ever promised Joanna she’d be welcomed into the family.
If Celestine died, Dahlia was determined to find the perfect woman for her son.
Dahlia pressed her point again. “Listen to me, our Chester is a good man–there’s nothing shady going on with anyone else!”
It was as if the bedroom door had been locked up to keep someone from escaping. Three heavy bolts had been added on the outside.
The butler undid the locks one by one.
With a loud click, the door finally swung open.
The first thing they saw was a mess of clothes scattered across the floor.
Then, on the plain wooden bed, a naked couple was tangled together, kissing desperately, oblivious to the world.
The sound of the door opening wasn’t enough to make them break apart in time.
Celestine stood in the doorway, arms crossed, her voice ice–cold: “Well, Mom?
What now?”
A moment ago, Dahlia had been so sure of herself, ready to humiliate Celestine. Now, she shrieked, “What on earth are you doing?! You little witch! How dare you seduce my son!”
Snatching up a nearby walking stick, Dahlia swung at the woman on the bed.
Joanna cowered in Chester’s arms, too frightened to move.
The chaos snapped Chester out of his drunken haze. “Mom, what are you doing
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now?” he muttered irritably, instinctively shielding Joanna. “I did what you asked–I’m here with someone to help with the wedding night. What else do you want from me?”
He looked up slowly, first meeting the angry, red–faced glare of his mother. But then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw a flash of bright red at the door.
Chester froze, stunned, and rubbed his eyes to make sure he wasn’t imagining things–Celestine hadn’t vanished like before. She was really there.
Still shirtless, he scrambled out of bed, suddenly realizing how wrong everything looked.
He hurriedly snatched up his clothes from the floor. “Celly, wait! Please, let me explain!”
Celestine’s brow furrowed, a wave of nausea rolling through her. She forced herself to hold it together until Chester got close–then slapped him hard across the face.
The sharp crack echoed through the room.
Chester stood frozen for several long seconds, dazed.
When he finally snapped out of it, Celestine was glaring at him with utter disgust. “You’re revolting, Chester. Absolutely filthy.”
He spun around, taking in the chaos on the bed and the horrified faces at the door, his mind spinning.
“It’s not what it looks like–please, let me explain-”
Luther’s voice was heavy with disappointment. “Chester, some lines, once crossed, can never be undone. Especially on a night like this. We won’t say more in front of your grandfather, but this time, I support Celly divorcing you.”
Alistair’s anger exploded. “You disgrace! You animal! How could you do such a thing? I ought to- I ought to-”
He raised a trembling fist, but the fury was too much–he staggered, then collapsed
on the spot.
“Grandpa!”
Alistair was rushed to the emergency room.
A pall of misery fell over the entire Fordham family.
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