Escape from the Heartless CEO

In the room, a couple was making love on the bed, both completely naked.

Both of them had model-like figures.

Due to the man's vigorous movements, the bed kept making noises.

This erotic scene would be a masterpiece even in a pornographic film.

After the intense lovemaking.

Melinda Beaufort was wearing a thin silk nightgown, her long, seaweed-like hair spread out casually, and her delicate face still had a hint of a lustful blush.

Even though she was so tired that she couldn't lift a finger, she didn't forget to turn her back to the headboard, with her long legs propped against the wall and a pillow under her waist.

She had learned from a doctor that this position was conducive to conception.

She closed her eyes and silently calculated her ovulation period.

They had been married for three years, and it was time to have a child.

The Douglas Family was pressing hard, and Stanley's mother, Christine Montagu, had even set a deadline for Melinda, demanding that she announce her pregnancy by the end of the year.

Stanley Douglas came out of the bathroom after a shower and saw this scene.

He was drying his short hair with a towel in his right hand, his chiseled features as exquisite as a sculpture, and his cold gaze swept over Melinda.

"What are you doing?"

"Trying to conceive."

Melinda opened her eyes and looked at him.

"We've been married for so long, it's time for the next step."

Before meeting Stanley, she was against marriage.

But when the young, handsome, capable, and charismatic Stanley appeared before her.

Melinda couldn't help but fall for him.

She even accepted the condition of their secret marriage.

Stanley's eyes were cold as he walked to the bedside table, opened a drawer, and threw a bottle of pills to Melinda.

"It's not the right time yet."

His voice was cold and commanding.

Melinda stared at him, frowning, "This isn't just my decision; your family is pressuring me to have a child. Are you going to explain it to them?"

Stanley's face was icy, "You don't need to pay attention to them. My affairs don't need others to interfere."

Melinda silently clenched her fists.

Contraception was an unspoken mutual agreement between them.

But three years had passed, and why was it still not the right time?

Melinda lowered her legs and looked at him directly, "Then tell me when will it be the right time? Do you hate children that much?"

Stanley's brows furrowed with impatience, "I don't like them."

Melinda's lips tightened.

She had seen Stanley interact gently with his nephew.

He would patiently play childish games with the child.

He didn't hate children; he just didn't want her children.

This realization hit Melinda like an invisible knife, stabbing her heart.

She knew deep down that even though they had been together for so many years.

She had never been loved by him, never entered Stanley's heart.

The only tender moments he had for her were probably during their lovemaking.

Their eyes met, and the atmosphere was tense and awkward.

In the end, it was Melinda who took a step back.

Stanley had a somewhat dictatorial personality and hated being defied the most.

She didn't want to waste a peaceful night like this.

Melinda grabbed the bottle, took out two pills, and swallowed them with warm water.

"Make sure you explain it to your family, so I don't have to bear the consequences."

Stanley glanced at her indifferently, said nothing, and turned to leave the room.

Melinda watched his steps and urgently asked, "Where are you going?"

"I'm sleeping in the study tonight."

Stanley didn't look back.

Melinda's fists clenched tighter.

Every time after they made love, Stanley would go to sleep in the study.

In these three years, they could count the times they slept in the same bed.

Anger rose in Melinda's eyes.

What was she?

A tool for him to vent his desires?

Before she could speak.

Stanley's phone rang in his pocket.

He answered it, and his previously cold expression softened instantly.

"What's wrong?"

It was a tenderness Melinda had never received.

And it made her instantly realize who the caller was.

Genevieve Roosevelt.

Stanley's first love.

They had dated for three years but were forced to part ways due to family reasons and differing ideals.

Genevieve chose to go abroad, but she suddenly returned last month.

And this call was indeed from her.

Even though Stanley's phone wasn't on speaker, Melinda could still hear Genevieve's weak sobbing.

"Stanley, I think I heard noises outside my door. I'm home alone and really scared. Can you come over and keep me company?"

Stanley's face was cold, but his voice was comforting, "Hide in your room. I'll drive over right away."

"Okay."

The call ended.

Stanley hurriedly grabbed his coat to leave.

He was always calm and composed, but only when it came to Genevieve did he act so urgently.

Melinda blocked his way, staring at him intently, "It's already three in the morning. Is it appropriate for you to go to her now? If she's in danger, can't she call the police? Doesn't she have any other friends?"

Melinda had had enough.

Since Genevieve's return, there had been countless reasons for her to trouble Stanley.

If it wasn't a broken pipe today, it was a cut finger tomorrow, or a nightmare the next day.

Genevieve always had various reasons to call Stanley in the middle of the night.

To her, Stanley was cold, but to Genevieve, he was a considerate 24-hour guardian.

Stanley's eyes flashed with sharpness, and he spoke coldly, "Didn't you hear she might be in danger?"

"If she has a problem, she should call the police. Why does she always call you?"

Melinda's anger was ignited.

"Last time, I had a high fever for three days in the hospital and called you, hoping you could come and be with me. You told me not to bother you. And now, in the middle of the night, she calls, and you rush over? Have you forgotten who your wife is?"

The more Melinda spoke, the more aggrieved she felt, and tears welled up in her eyes.

She had thought that after marriage, she would find a safe haven.

But it seemed like the storms were all brought by him.

Stanley's gaze was dark and cold, locked on Melinda.

He shouted sternly.

"Move!"

"I won't!"

Melinda stared at him, standing firmly in the doorway.

"If you want to go, I'll go with you!"

As soon as she finished speaking, Stanley impatiently pushed her aside.

Melinda stumbled and almost hit the wall.

By the time she steadied herself, Stanley was already gone, and the sound of a car engine came from the yard.

Melinda's face was pale, and her body trembled uncontrollably.

At that moment, it felt like a huge hole had been dug in her chest, with cold wind howling through it.

After a brief moment of clarity, she grabbed another set of car keys and drove after him.

Genevieve's current residence was a property under Stanley's name.

A very expensive, standalone villa.

Genevieve's treatment was like that of a kept mistress.

Melinda floored the gas pedal but couldn't catch up to Stanley.

She sat in her car, watching the lights on the second floor turn on.

Not long after, all the lights went out.

Stanley never came out.

Melinda couldn't remember how she got home.

Her mind was a foggy, empty mess.

She sat on the couch, staring blankly, when her phone suddenly alerted her to a new message.

An anonymous account had followed her.

She opened the account and saw a post from a minute ago.

The picture showed a man in loungewear busy in the kitchen, with a woman's long legs in the bottom right corner.

The candid photo was unfiltered.

Stanley's cold features were softened by the warm kitchen light.

The entire room was cozy and exquisite, like their love nest.

Melinda closed her eyes tightly.

She remembered when she first married Stanley, she had bought all sorts of cute plush toys and decorations to make their home cozy.

But Stanley had called her childish and thrown out all the toys she bought.

After that, Melinda never bought any more. She had lived in this villa for three years, but it remained decorated in black, white, and gray, like a bachelor's pad.

Everything Stanley despised, he indulged in with Genevieve.

When Melinda opened her eyes again, they were clear.

It was time to let go. He was like sand slipping through her fingers; it was better to let it go.

It was five in the morning when Stanley finally returned.

Seeing Melinda's pale face on the couch, he frowned instinctively.

"I'm very tired right now. I don't have the energy to argue with you."

Melinda suppressed the bitterness in her heart and looked at him calmly.

"Let's get a divorce."