Forced Marriage: My Wife, My Redemption by Lilyheart

Chapter 308: The Shares —her betrothal gifts...

True to their word, it was an update. With a furrowed brow, the board members stared at the exaggerated titles

dancing on their phone screens, then clicked the news.

#Elder Allen, healthy and sound, not in hospital. Desmond fools the public.#

#Desmond discovered plotting the death of his brother—click for evidence.

#An accident or a planned murder? Desmond has questions to answer as the truth is unveiled.

#Was Desmond an Allen or the hand that bit the one who fed him?

#Desmond Allen sued for murder and intentional harm.

#Desmond Allen loses his position as interim president.

Each news update was more damning than the last.

As the board members stared at the cacophony of headlines, their guts twisted. Eyes once filled with admiration

now burned with inquisitiveness, disgust, and bitter disappointment.

Desmond felt every stare like a knife to the chest. Noting the unhealthy scrutiny in the room, he slowly pulled

out his phone.

His trembling fingers clicked open his news app, but before it could load, the conference room’s projection

screen whirred softly and cto life, casting a pale light over the somber boardroom.

On screen appeared a list of internal transactions carried out within the Allen Group under Desmond’s one-year

chairmanship.

Each entry was accompanied by sub-notes indicating financial discrepancies, potential conflicts of interest, and

funds redirected through shell accounts.

Desmond's eyes widened. His heart thundered against his ribcage. A sharp pain gripped his chest as he stared at

the evidence of his downfall.

His lips parted to speak, but no words came. His hand trembled, and the phone slipped from his grasp, crashing

onto the table with a metallic clang that echoed ominously.

His head snapped to the other end of the table, locking eyes with Davis, who hadn't once looked away since the

room fell silent.

"Davis... you're the one doing this?" Desmond's voice was low, icy. "Ruining my reputation?"

Davis remained still for a beat, then slowly turned his head. "Uncle, do you think | have that much free time?

Besides," he said with unsettling calm, "there are still a lot of explanations you'll be making."

He leaned slightly forward, his tone chilling. "Uncle... What happened to my parents?"

The question fell like thunder, reverberating in every corner of the room. A chill gripped the air.

Desmond felt it like a sharp, unrelenting slap. His gaze faltered. He looked away, seeking refuge in the eyes of

the board, but their glares remained steady, scurious, others horrified.

Was this the end?

He drew a deep breath, steeling himself. No, he wouldn't let Jessica and Davis steal his legacy. If he had to walk

away, he would do so with dignity. He rose to address the room.

"If you will allow me—"

But Jessica's voice sliced through his attempt like a knife.

"Uncle, don’t you think someone with a clear conscience wouldn't avoid direct questions? What really happened

in the past year?" Her tone was cool, clipped, and unmistakably authoritative.

Desmond met her gaze, his eyes narrow. "And who do you think you are to question me?" he snapped, fists

clenched at his sides.

Jessica raised a brow, folding her arms across her chest. Her voice, when it came, was cold enough to frost glass.

"Uncle, that question shouldn't be directed at me. Because for one... I'd like to know your level of involvement in

the death of my mother—Nora Santiago."

Desmond flinched.

The nstruck like a spear. His breath caught in his throat as he stared at her face, finally seeing it, studying

it. The shape of her cheekbones. The fire in her eyes. Eyes that belonged to Nora.

He had never bothered to look too closely. Never asked George who the girl truly was when he demanded a bride

for Davis. If he had only known...he wouldn't have given George the chance of switching out Russ for Jessica.

For George, Risa is the excellent child and shouldn't be cajoled into a marriage that will lead to her end but now

for him, he had suffered irredeemably.

No. It didn’t matter. He couldn't afford regret—not now, not ever. He squared his shoulders.

Jessica stepped forward. Her poise radiated dominance. Cold amusement danced across her lips as she studied

him.

"Mr. Desmond Allen," she said, her words sharp as ice, "for everyone that had a hand in her demise, | will play

the long game... until | reach the end."

His voice cracked as anger surged through him. "Is that a threat?"

Jessica’s smile was bone-deep and unforgiving. "I don’t make threats. | make promises."

Gasps broke out around the room. Vera, seated in the corner, covered her mouth in disbelief. She had heard tales

about Nora, of her bond with Davis's mother, of her tragic end. But this? Jessica? The sgirl Desmond had

tried to dismiss as irrelevant?

"It seems they have made a match." She mused.

"Maybe, just maybe, | will get to pay back and take back what's rightfully mine." She muttered to herself with a

smirk.

Desmond scoffed, trying to recover. "Jessica, you shouldn't meddle in matters that are beyond you."

"| appreciate the advice," she replied, her tone laced with scorn.

Then, turning to the board, she addressed them with measured resolve. "Desmond Allen has tarnished this

company’s reputation. His personal scandals, financial irregularities, and criminal charges are endangering the

Allen Group's future."

She paused to let the weight of her words sink in. "With the media clamoring for statements and law

enforcement waiting outside, | propose we adjourn this meeting. We'll reconvene tomorrow at 9 a.m."

Desmond's stomach churned. He snapped toward her.

"What are you planning to do?"

"Nothing major," she said smoothly. "Just giving you an opportunity to have a one-on-one chat with the law."

Then, under her breath, she added, "And if | don’t get a satisfying report by morning... I'll finish it myself. You can

trust me. It won't be painful."

Desmond's face drained of color. He raised his hand in fury, intent on striking her.

But before the slap could land, Davis stood and caught his wrist midair, his grip vice-like.

"Dear Uncle," he said softly, dangerously, "I believe you know the rule—no one touches my wife."

Desmond jerked his arm back.

I" ) :

You're letting her be presumptuous.

Giving her tog rpughiffeddém:. too

mudh ohViiRge! You handed her all

your shares—kept only a few! Do you

: ) : [1

think she'll cherish you?" The content

is on novelenglish.net! Read the latest

chapter there!

Davis turned to Jessica. His expression softened, the tension slipping from his shoulders.

"I think you're right, Uncle. She should be free. She should be bold. And whether or not she cherishes me... well, |

cherish her. That's enough for us both."

Then, calmly, he added, "As for the shares—they were her betrothal gifts."

Desmond stumbled back a step. The

final blow had landed. Gasping for air,

he realized just hawmaph BRAY!

lqst vB AING ie had painstakingly

planned for, built, claimed. And more

painful was the fact he lost it to a

woman—Jessica. The content is on

novelenglish.net! Read the latest

chapter there!

And Jessica.

He loathed her with every fiber of his being.

But before he could retreat with what pride he had left, Davis leaned forward once more, voice gentle and

cutting.

I" :

Oh, and one more thing, Uncle.

Thank you for choosing her. You

chose wisely. when bad Chosen

FaQliBhi fe said casting a subtle

glance at Vera whose hand trembled

briefly at the comment The content is

on novelenglish.net! Read the latest

chapter there!

Desmond turned away, staggering as the weight of his ruin sank in.

Chapter 308: The Shares —her betrothal gifts...

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