Remarried Wife: Mr. Ex, We Will Never Reconcile!-Chapter 82: Ian Kane Catches Vera Sheridan Trying to Sell The Glimmer Garden
Vera Sheridan didn’t expect him to come over so late.
This man is truly busy.
During the day, he acts as a cure for his lover, and in the evening, he’s drunk from socializing.
She pretended to be asleep, not making a sound.
Ian Kane sat at the end of the bed, lifted the blanket, and under the dim light of the table lamp, his gaze locked onto the scar on her right ankle, and he gently rubbed the cross-shaped scar with his thumb.
It was proof of her love for him.
The man’s dark eyes reflected a hint of joy that even he wasn’t aware of.
A warm, rough sensation was felt on her right ankle, and Vera frowned in disgust, mustering her strength to break free from his hand and retreating under the blanket.
Ian was stunned for a moment, then moved to the head of the bed, leaned over, and his voice was hoarse, "Honey... not asleep yet?"
A strong smell of smoke and alcohol hovered over her cheek, his entire weight pressing on her, and Vera frowned in annoyance, facing his disheveled handsome face.
The man’s lips curved slightly, "Worried about my affairs, can’t sleep?"
Vera, "..."
Ian gently caressed her cheek with his left hand, the wedding ring on his ring finger reflecting a cold light, "I’m fine, I’ve seen all kinds of storms."
"And what about those investors who lost everything?" Vera couldn’t help but question him.
Ian, too drunk, experiencing bouts of stomach pain, naturally couldn’t detect the sarcasm and questioning tone in her voice, and he grinned broadly.
"Mrs. Kane, you’re still too naive... only seeing those who lost everything, after I seized control, those investors who always trusted me still made a fortune, as did those who bought in at the bottom and got rich overnight."
"I still say, ’You must accept loss when you gamble,’ blame them for not trusting me, those who lost everything."
Vera coldly sneered in her heart, malicious acquisition, yet he doesn’t mention the word "malicious" at all.
The man’s hot breath sprayed on her face, his drunken tone revealing a sinister chill, "Those who despise me, who kick me when I’m down, who betray me, none of them will end up well."
Vera was too lazy to deal with him, pushed him away, and moved inward, "It’s late, go home and sleep."
Ian clutched his stomach, a deep, painful groan coming from his throat, "Honey... I... it hurts."
His voice was pained, faintly tinged with a hint of dependence, like a child acting spoiled.
Vera knew he had a stomach ache.
Every time he got drunk, it was like this.
Back then, she would be anxious, at a loss, buy him special medication to repair the gastric mucosa, make sure he quit smoking and drinking.
But all her sincerity was fed to a heartless liar like him!
Ian, seeing her unmoving, was somewhat incredulous, and in a glance, noticed the food container on the coffee table not far away, with the clear ’Grant’ character, it stung his eyes, like a fire burning in his stomach, unbearable pain.
"Did Noah Grant come over, hmm?" He turned her face back, questioning in a deep voice.
In the dim light, Vera pushed him away with a backhand.
There was a loud "bang" sound, and it seemed the floor even shook a little.
Ian had fallen.
Vera turned on the light, drawing a sharp breath at the scene on the floor.
The man was curled up on the cold white tiles, clutching his stomach, eyes closed, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth, stark against his pale skin.
It was a gastric hemorrhage.
Vera sat on the hospital bed, quietly watching the scene, motionless, her expression indifferent.
The needle-like pain in her right ankle reminded her: don’t sympathize with him at all!
"Ah—Mr. Ian!"
A woman’s panicked shout reverberated, awakening Vera from her thoughts. She saw Nanny Hale, who had somehow entered the room, looking at Ian on the floor, slapping her thigh and shouting.
She had come earlier to bring Vera dinner.
Only then did Vera press the call button, got off the bed, and pretended to shout anxiously, "Husband, what’s wrong? Don’t scare me!"
The medical team arrived quickly.
Ian was taken to the emergency room.
After examination, it was confirmed that his gastric mucosa had been irritated by alcohol, resulting in bleeding and shock, but he was not in any life-threatening condition.
Once his vital signs stabilized, Vera feigned a stomachache and returned to her own ward.
Only Nanny Hale stayed with Ian, taking care of him until dawn.
...
In the morning, Vera quietly entered Ian’s room, gently waking up Nanny Hale, who had fallen asleep on the accompanying bed.
"Nanny Hale, please go back and follow this recipe to make Ian a medicinal porridge. Whenever his stomach acts up, this porridge makes him feel better."
Nanny Hale nodded repeatedly, glancing at the hospital bed with compassion, "Okay, I’ll go and come back quickly... With you around, Ian is lucky, he is pitiful..."
Vera nodded in agreement.
As soon as Nanny Hale left, she immediately pulled a brown document bag from her purse, which contained the property deeds and other procedures for The Glimmer Garden, along with a property transfer contract.
She was going to secretly sell the luxurious "prison" that once symbolized "love" but was essentially crafted by him for her.
Vera opened the ink pad, walked to the bedside, took his right thumb, dipped it in the ink, and one page at a time, pressed his red fingerprint onto the signature spot.
The signature was forged by her, enough to pass for the real thing.
Just as she was pressing the final page, she didn’t notice Ian on the hospital bed slowly open his eyes.
The man’s lips were dry and pale, eye sockets sunken, cheeks gaunt, seeming to have lost a substantial amount of weight overnight, his dark eyes bloodshot.
His Adam’s apple bobbed, and his voice was low and hoarse, "Honey, what are you doing..."
Hearing this, Vera’s scalp tightened.
Looking up, she saw Ian staring fixedly at the contract in her hands...
