Divorce Me Before Death Takes Me, CEO

Chapter 268

Audrey's POV

The car stopped, and | looked through the window at Lunar Mansion. Weeds had overrun the garden, making it

clear nobody had touched it for at least a month.

“You wantto hide here?” | asked, still holding Snow against my chest.

Blake got out and opened my door. “Nobody would think you'd return to our old house after the divorce. It’s the

safest option.

His eyes softened when he looked at Snow. “Plus, Snow knows this place. He won't run off.”

| hesitated before stepping out. As much as | hated to admit it, Blake was right. This was probably the best place

to hide. Not only was Snow familiar with it, but | knew every corner too. If | needed to escape later, at least I'd

know my way around.

The moment we stepped inside, Snow squirmed free and raced across the living room, rediscovering his old

territory with excited

meows.

“You can see how much he’s missed this place,” Blake said, watching Snow dart under furniture. Then he turned

to me. “That apartment couldn't have been good for either of you.”

“Now that you're back, don’t leave again. We can remarry in a few months.”

| laughed. “Aren’t you engaged to Laurel?”

“Laurel and | won't end up together.”

“Really? You two seem perfect for each other.” | crossed my arms. Or maybe you both just enjoy cheating.”

“It's not what you think,” Blake said, his face hardening. “And | never cheated on you.”

Snow darted under the sofa, then backed out dragging something in his mouth.

“Snow, stop! What did you find under the My words died as | realized what it was

a torn black stocking.

| grabbed gloves from a nearby drawer and picked up the stocking, examining it before tossing it in the trash. |

peeled off the gloves

and threw them away too.

‘So Mr. Parker likes black stockings,” | said with a cold smile.

“What are you talking about?”

Seems you two had quite the passionate ton this sofa.” | turned toward the door. “If you're makingstay

here, find somewhere else for your hookups with Miss Rose. Snow and | don’t need to see that.”

“I told you, we're not like that!” Blake's voice rose with frustration.

“No? Then who else has been staying here?”

Before Blake could answer, his phone rang.

Blake's POV

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Chapter 268

| pulled my phone out and checked the screen. After a moment, | answered and hit speaker.

“Blake darling,” Laurel's voice sounded weak. “Why aren't you here yet? My mother’s gone, and Dr. Evans says |

shouldn't be alone...”

I glanced coldly at Audrey. “Laurel, | found a torn black stocking under the sofa at Lunar Mansion. Is it yours?”

A pause. “What about the stocking?”

“Just answer the question.” My patience was thinning.

“Yes, it's mine,” she said casually.

“When did you leave it here?”

“When Thalia and | went hiking,” she explained. “I tore it and took it off at your place. Must have fallen under the

sofa.”

“Blake darling, is something wrong?”

| loosened my tie, irritated. “Nothing. The cleaning staff found it. | was worried Thalia brought strangers to my

house.”

Laurel laughed. “Don’t worry, she knows better. When are you coming over?”

“Soon,” | said after a pause.

I hung up and looked around, only to find Audrey gone. All | could see was her back as she carried Snow upstairs.

| stared at the empty hallway, feeling oddly hollow. I'd asked Laurel about the stocking to clear things up, but

Audrey hadn't even stayed to listen.

Maybe she really doesn’t care anymore. But if that’s true, why pretend to be the woman who savedfive

years ago? Why try to get close toagain?

| shook my head and walked out to my car. Still puzzled by the Rose family situation, I called Michael as | started

the engine.

“Get security at Lunar Mansion. Every exit covered. Nobody in or out without my say-so.”

“Yes, sir,” Michael replied. “Sir, our investigation found something. The truck driver in Miss Sinclair's accident

was following orders.”

“Whose?”

“After his death, his family received two large transfers from Miss Rose’s account.”

I slammed the brakes and pulled over. Leaning back, | lit a cigarette and let the information sink in.

Three cigarettes later, my mind was clearer. | picked up the phone again.

“Have someone watch Dr. Clarke's team. Everyone, down to the janitors.”

Since Dr. Clarke said Rachel had been drugged into her vegetative state, they must be hiding her. I still couldn't

make sense of everything, but I'd wait. Once Rachel woke up in a couple weeks, the truth would cout.

“Yes, sir,” Michael said. “About the accident... are you going to step in? If we connected Miss Rose to it, others

might too. Don’t you want to protect her?”

| laughed coldly. “Why would | protect her?”

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Chapter 268

“When she plotted against Audrey and Rachel, she must have considered the consequences. She did it anyway.”

| took another drag. “We're staying out of it. If the Thompsons or Audrey trace it back to her, let them take her to

court. | won't help

her.

| hung up without waiting for Michael's response.

Maybe I'd given Laurel too much leeway over the years. That would explain why she kept pulling stunts like this.

Well, not this time. She made her choice, now she could deal with the fallout herself.

| crushed out my cigarette and started the car, heading to Mayo Clinic.

When | got there, | stepped into an elevator and hit the button for Laurel's floor. Just as the doors were closing, a

woman supporting what looked like her daughter slipped in beside me.

Noticing we were headed to the sfloor, she smiled. “Visiting someone too?”

I never liked chatting with strangers, but ignoring her completely seemed rude.

“Yeah,” | muttered with a short nod.

Before she could say anything else, the daughter doubled over and vomited. Not just stomach contents - bright

red blood splattered across the elevator floor and onto my sleeve.

“I'm so sorry,” the woman said, steadying her daughter while offeringa tissue. “Late-stage gastric cancer.

She doesn’t have much

tleft.”

The doors opened and | stepped out. “Don’t worry about it.”

As | walked away, | heard her calling for a nurse to clean up the mess. | glanced back at the daughter now

slumped in a waiting room chair, face ghost-white after the episode.

Late-stage gastric cancer sas Laurel supposedly had.

Except Laurel had never once vomited blood.

“Sir?”

The woman approachedagain, trembling as she pulled two wrinkled bills from a worn wallet. “For your suit

cleaning. It’s all we can spare right now with her treatments, but

“Keep it,” | cut her off. | pulled out my business card and handed it to her. “Call my assistant. He'll arrange

financial help for your daughter's treatment.”

She stared at the card. “Why would you -

“Just doone favor. When your daughter has episodes like this - vomiting, fainting, whatever let my assistant

know the details.”

Her confusion was obvious, but she nodded anyway.

I turned and walked toward Laurel's room.

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