Divorce Me Before Death Takes Me, CEO

Chapter 82

Audrey's POV

Looking at these papers, my heart stuttered. Blake Parker, studying gastric cancer research? For a moment, wild

hope flared in my chem. Had ha cimet discovered my condition? Was there still enough of the man I'd married

left to care?

A tiny spark of hope flickered to life in my chest. Perhaps beneath all his cruelty and indifference, spart of

him still cared. Maybe he’d discovered my condition and was secretly trying to help me. The thought made my

throat tighten with unexpected emotion.

Audrey Sinclair. What are you doing?”

| was still crouching on the floor collecting papers when Blake's cold voice cut through my thoughts. |

instinctively looked up, my voice slightly trembling as | asked the question burning in my mind.)

Blake. Why... why are you researching this illness?”

His expression darkened immediately. He strode over and snatched the files from my hands, his movements

precise and angry as he carefully placed the scattered papers back into the folder.

“Who gave you permission to look at these papers?.,\

could hear the anger and frustration in his voice.

“These cost a fortune to obtain from overseas medical schools. They need to be returned intact.” He continued,

coldly glaring at me.

The tiny spark of hope that had just risen in my heart instantly dissipated, leaving behind only the familiar cold

emptiness. He wasn’t doing this for me. Of course he wasn’t. When had Blake Parker ever done anything for me?

| watched him organize the papers with meticulous care, his attention to these documents far exceeding any

attention he'd shownin years. My mind raced, trying to make sense of the situation. Blake wasn’t a medical

professional. Parker Group didn’t deal with pharmaceuticals. So why...

Wait.

Every tLaurel feigned illness, she complained of stomach pains - Blake wasn't researching gastric cancer for

me. He was worried that Laurel's stomach pains might develop into something more serious.

The realization felt like ice water in my veins.

| couldn’t help but let out a bitter laugh. The memories I'd tried so hard to bury cflooding back.

Those first six months after he regained consciousness, when his eyes would light up at the sight of my

homemade beef stew, when he’d insist on having dinner together no matter how late his meetings ran. The way

he'd wrap his arms aroundin the kitchen, stealing bites as | cooked, laughing at my protests. Back then, my

cooking had been his favorite thing in the world.

But somewhere along the way, everything changed. The warmth in his eyes cooled, the shared dinners became

rare, then stopped entirely. Still, | kept cooking, kept waiting with meals that grew cold on the table. Night after

night, ignoring my cramping stomach, telling myself he’d cheventually. Even William Parker noticed -

“Boy, look at your wife. She's getting too thin.” But by then, it was only Michael who checked on me.

The man who never even spareda glance was studying top-level gastric cancer research papers because of

Laurel's fake stomach pains. So this is what it looked like when Blake Parker truly cared for someone,

| was pulled from my bitter reflections by Laurel's voice drifting out from the hospital room.

“Blake darling,” her voice was weak but carried that distinctive wheedling quality I'd cto recognize, “I heard

a noise outside, what happened?”

“Nothing happened, Blake responded, his tone instantly softening to something | barely recognized. “Audrey just

knocked over a water bottle!”

‘I told you earlier that leaving Miss Sinclair alone outside would be boring for her, but you wouldn't listen, Laurel

continued, her voice dripping practiced concern.

“Why don’t both of you cin? The three of us can chat together, wouldn't that be nice?”

1/3

Chapter 82

Blake turned to me, all traces of tenderness vanishing from his expression: Tat a go, he ordered.

shook my head. 1 have nothing to discuss with you two.”

looked at him directly, keeping my voice steady despite the storm of emotions inside me, “You've confirmed that

your precious Miss Rose emotiona calmed down, right? Delete those photos and their backups now, and I'll leave

immediately, not disturbing your private twith Miss Kore

His brows furrowed deeply. “Audrey Sinclair, don’t speak so unpleasantly. He lowered his voice, though I could

still hear the edge of anger. What private time? In my eyes, Laurel is like a sister!”

The corner of my lips curved upward into a mocking smile. ‘Oh, sister?”

Such an act. He had booked the venue and cake for the Laurel as a sister?

enement a month before Laurel returned from Europe. Now he was tellinghe only saw

“We're completely innocent, whether you believe it or not,”

isted, his tone growing increasingly irritated.

Before | could respond, the door to the hospital room opened wider, and Laurel appeared in the doorway. She

was dressed in a designer hospital gown, her hair perfectly styled despite her supposed illness.

“Blake darling, Miss Sinclair...” she said softly.

Blake immediately turned to her, his expression transforming into

one of concern. “Why did you get out of bed!”

I... | saw that neither of you were coming to find me, so | cout to check...” Laurel's voice quavered

delicately. She turned to me, her eyes widening with practiced innocence.

“Miss Sinclair, you've already apologized to me... we should consider our grievances resolved...” She gestured

toward the room behind her. “Don’t mind my small hospital room, please cin and chat with Blake darling

and me, would you?”

| have nothing to discuss with you two,” | repeated firmly.

Laurel reached out and tightly grabbed my sleeve. Though she was pretending to be ill in front of Blake, the

hand gripping my arm was surprisingly strong. | frowned and instinctively tried to pull her hand away, but she

clung tighter. When | tugged more forcefully, she stumbled from the force, nearly falling.

Blake quickly caught her body, positioning himself protectively between us. Despite my efforts, | couldn't pull

Laurel's hand away from my sleeve.

“Miss Sinclair,” Laurel looked up at me, eyes red, tears streaming down her face, do you hate me?”

| fought the urge to laugh at the absurdity of the question. Instead, | shook my head insincerely. “No, | don’t.”

“Then why won't you join Blake darling in keepingcompany?” Her lower lip trembled perfectly.

Blake, who clearly couldn't stand seeing Laurel cry, tugged at his tie with obvious irritation. “You don’t have any

urgent matters, so there's no harm in staying to chat with Laurel.” His tone left no room for argument as he

added, “I'll take you hafterward and help you with what needs to be done.”

What he meant by “what needs to be done” was deleting Astrid’s photos. Clearly, Blake's implication was that if |

didn’t comply, he wouldn't delete the photos. This man was threateningagain for Laurels sake.

| took a deep breath, suppressing my emotions, and laughed coldly. “Fine.”

Laurel's insistence on havingstay must be part of splan. | wanted to see what she planned to say to me

in front of Blake this time.