CHAPTER 49: CHAPTER 49: JULIAN FORDHAM BEGS FOR MERCY ON HIS KNEES, VICTORIA, I’M SORRY

Suddenly, Julian Fordham caught the incoming golf club aimed directly at him.

His hand, still untreated, had its wounds split open, and stark, red blood gushed out, slowly dripping down his sleeve, staining the silver cufflinks.

Yet, he didn’t care, his gaze cold and domineering as he said, "Even if I did something wrong, it’s not your place to resort to violence."

An invisible tension hung between them, as if a fight could erupt at any moment.

Assistant Prescott also spoke up, reminding, "Mr. Hawthorne, this is a busy entrance, if this gets to the media, the Hawthorne Family won’t look any better for it."

"Even though I’m not sure what happened, I know that a couple’s fights should be resolved in private. What position does Mr. Hawthorne take to stand up for Mrs. Fordham?"

Corbin Prescott appeared respectful, his words were a subtle jab, putting Rhys Hawthorne in an embarrassing position.

He wasn’t afraid of being labeled, but the world is clearly more forgiving toward men than women.

Even Victoria Monroe didn’t know his intentions. If this got out, observers would only accuse Victoria Monroe of shamelessly seducing Rhys Hawthorne, betraying her husband, and causing two men to fight over her.

How would Rhys Hawthorne respond?

Any response would place Victoria Monroe in a dire situation.

Assistant Woods chuckled coldly, "Assistant Prescott has such a sharp tongue, I’ve heard of couples fighting and then making up, but which bed did CEO Julian sleep on?"

Julian Fordham had seen Assistant Woods before, four years ago on set when he was responsible for serving Rhys Hawthorne, speaking little and having a weak presence.

Now, he was unreserved, showing his sharp edge, without any courtesy towards him.

Assistant Woods’s hands did nothing, but his words were striking, his presence full force, "I’ve seen loving couples, but I’ve never seen a husband tying his wife up, nearly freezing her in a bathtub. Is that your boss?"

Corbin Prescott was stunned, he didn’t know what had happened last night, if he hadn’t heard the truth from Assistant Woods, he wouldn’t have guessed it was like this.

Clearly Julian Fordham cared for Victoria Monroe, how could he do this?

Rhys Hawthorne’s gaze was maliciously fixed on Julian Fordham, his lips tight, his face full of uncontainable hostility, "Julian Fordham, using such cruel means against your loved one, can you still call yourself a person?"

As he spoke, he swung his fist towards Julian Fordham’s face.

A weak and hoarse woman’s voice sounded, "Stop."

Rhys Hawthorne’s movements stiffened in mid-air, Julian Fordham looked up towards the newcomer.

Victoria Monroe was being supported by someone, she obviously couldn’t stand, almost relying entirely on the nurse, her face pale, devoid of any color.

Like the last withered leaf on an autumn branch, swaying precariously in the cold wind, ready to fall at any moment.

Before Rhys Hawthorne could explain, his grip on the golf club loosened suddenly, and a strong breeze swept by.

The next second, Julian Fordham had already wrapped Victoria Monroe tightly in his arms.

His raspy voice carried endless guilt, "Victoria."

Victoria Monroe raised her head from his embrace, looking at the familiar man before her, her lowered eyelashes casting two shadows.

Behind him, the snowstorm continued relentlessly, reflecting in the cold white indoor light, sketching his clear and defined cheekbones.

He stood at the boundary between cold and warmth, with an inexplicable sense of dissonance.

Angel, demon, it lies solely in his whim, his dominance vanished, reverting to his usual tenderness.

Victoria Monroe’s heart was filled with a faint bitterness.

His merciless silhouette as he left her in the bathtub kept haunting her mind.

Though she’d filed for divorce earlier, it was simply because she couldn’t tolerate his actions, nor could she accept his child with someone else.

In her heart, he wasn’t the unforgivable villain.

Years of affection kept her shielding him with a filter called love.

But last night’s snowstorm shattered her filter completely.

Julian Fordham’s eyes were red, full of anxiety and concern for her, as he tightly clutched her hand, nervously asking, "Victoria, are you alright?"

She furrowed her brow slightly, then lifted the white gauze under her clothes, "Not really well."

Julian Fordham hurriedly released her hand, "I’m sorry, last night Autumn made..."

Victoria Monroe didn’t give him the chance to explain, she just calmly looked at Rhys Hawthorne approaching.

He was just wearing a white shirt in the snow.

The collar slightly opened, the shirt a bit wrinkled.

Even his always immaculately managed hair hung down.

When her gaze landed on the golf club in his hand, the man’s breath involuntarily became heavy for a moment, even his grip on the club stiffened.

Only those familiar with him knew, at this moment Rhys Hawthorne was a bit flustered and helpless.

Like someone who’s had their rebellious heart discovered beneath their elegant exterior.

Assistant Woods was momentarily confused, instinctively taking the club from his hand, finding a lame excuse, "Sir, your appointment is only in the afternoon, why bring the club out so early?"

Rhys Hawthorne didn’t explain, he wouldn’t treat women like fools.

He stepped towards her, lowering his voice, "It’s really cold outside, you still have a fever, let’s go inside first and talk."

Victoria Monroe nodded, her face showed no love for Julian Fordham, nor hatred.

She seemed so calm, her voice hoarse as she spoke, "Rhys, could you please notify Dominic to come over, have him bring the prepared divorce papers?"

Julian Fordham’s expression suddenly froze.

"Alright." Rhys Hawthorne looked at the nurse, "Assist Miss Monroe back."

Not Mrs. Fordham, but Miss Monroe.

Dominic Scott was right, divorce wasn’t just about the papers, it involved a comprehensive division.

Victoria Monroe coughed twice, her joints were so sore, walking was a struggle.

Julian Fordham wanted to carry her, but just as he touched Victoria Monroe, Victoria Monroe coldly rejected, "Don’t touch me!"

Julian Fordham met her gaze, within it was no longer love, only fear and disgust!

His wife, afraid of him.

His hand trembled slightly where it hovered in mid-air, his heart aching indescribably.

Rhys Hawthorne pushed a wheelchair, Victoria Monroe withdrew her gaze, politely thanking Rhys.

She was so calm, calm like the morning mist and clouds, completely elusive.

The two followed behind her, arriving at the elevator door, both pressing the button simultaneously.

Their fingers nearly clashed!

Everyone else chose to take the next elevator, no one dared involve themselves in this hellscape.

On the second floor, someone accidentally entered, the elevator doors opened to reveal the woman in the wheelchair, her face extremely pale, while behind her stood two tall men, both striking in appearance.

The elevator exuded an indescribable murderous atmosphere, one in black, the other in white, both cold-faced, resembling mythical guardians.

The newcomer dared not step forward, watching helplessly as the elevator doors closed.

Only a moment later did they react.

Weren’t those three Julian Fordham, Rhys Hawthorne, and Victoria Monroe!

Heavens! How did these three end up together!!!

On the fourth floor, Rhys Hawthorne wanted to push Victoria Monroe, but Julian Fordham had already gripped the opposite side of the handle, neither willing to yield, battling invisibly.

This floor was long cleared, no one witnessed two handsome men each holding an end of the wheelchair, awkwardly pushing Victoria Monroe to the hospital room.

Rhys Hawthorne wanted to help Victoria Monroe, but Victoria Monroe spoke up, "Rhys Hawthorne, could you please leave for a moment?"

Rhys Hawthorne glanced at Julian Fordham, understanding Victoria Monroe’s proud nature, unwilling to show anyone her troubled marriage.

"Alright, I’ll be just outside. If he gets rough, you can press the alarm anytime."

"Thank you."

Rhys Hawthorne shut the door, Julian Fordham wanted to help her, but Victoria Monroe interrupted again, "I said, don’t touch me."

Julian Fordham could only watch as Victoria Monroe, walking extremely slowly and with great weakness, climbed onto the bed.

Last night she still looked like a fairy at a banquet, overnight she turned like this, all because of his jealousy.

Julian Fordham’s eyes reddened as he slowly knelt down at Victoria Monroe’s feet.

He submitted to her humbly, guilt filling his eyes, "Victoria, I’m sorry, I’ve already instructed Assistant Prescott to arrange for Rachel Hayes’s abortion, please give me another chance..."