My Bossy CEO Husband

She could have simply thought of the money Lyndon paid for Ritas grandmothers medical bill as a donation to someone in need.

But knowing Ritas intentions as a homewrecker, Tilda was determined to collect every penny.

Every single penny! After a long pause, Rita finally replied, I dont have enough money to repay you right now.

I just wanted to clarify-again-that I didnt make any deal with Scarlet.

She did approach me, but I refused her proposal.

Tilda read Ritas message with a sneer.

She had no interest in Ritas nonsense.

Even though shed only met Rita a handful of times, it wasnt hard to read between the lines.

The womans eyes and behavior screamed one thing-she was determined to win Lyndons affections. You dont need to explain anything to me.

Im not that idle.

If youve got the money, pay it back.

If not, instead of wasting time explaining, why not get a part-time job and earn it? Tilda typed out coldly and hit send.

Moments later, Rita replied, Rest assured, Mrs.noveldrama

Fernandez, Ill repay the money Lyndon lent me as soon as possible.

Tilda stared at the reply, an image of Ritas pitiful, innocent facade flashing in her mind.

A flicker of disdain crossed her face.

Tossing her phone aside, she headed to the bathroom to freshen up.

One post, however, caught her attention.

About half an hour earlier, Rita had updated her status.

Just came to the sudden realization of how insignificant I am… The message was paired with a scenic photo, seemingly taken from the edge of a tall rooftop.

Tildas brows knitted together.

The angle gave her an uneasy feeling.

Did the photographer have a death wish? If Rita had taken the photo, was she.

contemplating suicide? The thought lingered for a moment.

Tilda briefly considered calling her but quickly brushed off the idea. Why should she play the role of a good Samaritan? A woman like Rita, who was scheming to wreck someones home, wouldnt easily resort to something so drastic.

This was probably just another act- one staged for Lyndon to see, designed to pull at his heartstrings.

With that, Tilda dismissed the entire scenario.

She tossed her phone aside and climbed into bed with a script to read.

Around eleven, Lyndon returned home, the faint smell of alcohol clinging to him.

His face was slightly flushed from drinking.

Tilda got out of bed, took his coat without a word, and put it away.

Noticing the slight blur in Lyndons eyes from the alcohol, she frowned.

Why did you drink so much tonight?