Chapter 105

--- Chapter 105 Giselle had miscalculated. She had been far too confident. She believed their long-standing affair meant Donovan had developed feelings , that their tender moments had softened his heart, and that he might have even imagined a future with her. She had been so sure she was the one in control. She never realized that he saw her as a disposable object with no real value. She had been naive enough to believe a casual fling like her could ever hold the same importance as his family.

The truth hit her with a wave of humiliation, and her chest seized with a sharp, needling ache. The nausea became unbearable. She scrambled out of the car, vomiting on the curb until the world blurred around her. Her body was limp and hollow when she finally finished. Knowing she couldn't stay there, she climbed back into the car. She started the engine and slowly pulled away, driving without a destination on the wide, empty suburban streets. Gripping the wheel numbly, she drove on autopilot .

His cruel words echoed in her ears, and a chilling cold seeped from her pores, making her tremble even in the summer ---- heat. Of course. Who was he? He was the heir to Kane Group. A ruthless strategist in the business world, a man known for his cold-blooded precision . How could someone like that be captured so easily by an insignificant nobody like her? Now that something had happened to Zachary, and real decisions had to be made, she finally saw the truth.

In Donovan's world, she was the lowest priority. To mend his fractured bond with his family, he had been generous enough to offer her to Zachary as some sort of consolation prize. She stumbled back to her small, shabby apartment, collapsed onto the bed, and lay there drained-physically, emotionally, mentally. Her thoughts ran wild. She tossed and turned, unable to sleep. By midnight , she had developed a high fever.

Her body alternated between burning hot and shaking with uncontrollable shivers. Her limbs were weak, her head pounded, and she felt a level of misery she'd never experienced before. In that feverish haze, she was trapped in a personal hell. Her mind, however, drifted to her late mother , Rebecca, and a life of loneliness and rebellion -a life of more than 20 years spent feeling rejected by the world. ---- She had never felt so fragile, so alone, and so tired.

Tears streamed down her face without sound or warning. She couldn't even tell if she was crying from the physical pain or the emotional weight that had broken her. The tears soaked her pillow, ran into her ears and down her neck-dampening everything they touched. By dawn, she was so sick she truly thought she might die. Mustering every ounce of strength, she sat up, threw ona coat, fed the dog, and, with her phone and keys in hand, staggered out the door.

Normally healthy , she had never experienced a flu this bad. Her legs, weak and wobbly, could barely hold her weight as she staggered to the car. She managed to get in and, without a second thought, drove to the nearest hospital. At the emergency department , she took a number , had her temperature checked , saw the doctor , and was sent for bloodwork. It was one test after another. When she finally received the results, she glanced down at the paper and froze. Her heart skipped a beat. She stared at the numbers with wide eyes, hands ---- trembling, unable to believe what she was seeing.