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Caged by the Billionaire

“Squeal———” The screeching of emergency brakes tore through the entire night sky. Her body, like a broken bag, was flung onto the windshield, and then, rolled down to the ground viciously. That light purple evening gown was soon soaked red with the blood gushing down her legs. In the pool of blood, she lay silently on the ground, with only the images of his entanglement with that woman at the wedding lingering in her mind… Four years of entanglement, a single contract. He was President Leng, the finance mogul who could summon the wind and call the rain, icily imposing, his authority unchallenged. On a rainy night after breaking up with his beloved girlfriend, he found her, a helpless and orphaned girl, at the head of the bridge. He didn't love her, yet he made her his woman, a woman to bear his children. He had always just been used to her presence, until that night, when he saw her lying in a pool of blood with his child… She was the mute orphan who had relied solely on Ah Mo since childhood, born into hardship, calm and resilient. At the age of eighteen, to escape a fate of being sold by her uncle, she fled the small fishing village and met the cold and lofty him in the strange city. He paid for Ah Mo’s medical expenses, for her university education, they were entwined night and day, but all for the sake of a heir. That night, a car accident, a miscarriage, a broken heart, all she could do was leave in sorrow… [Note] The story is slightly tragic throughout but has a fulfilling conclusion. Finished work by Anxiang http://read.xxsy.net/info/162141.html Zuifei Crime http://read.xxsy.net/info/212178.html “Torture the Concubine”

Faint fragrance · Urbain
Pas assez d’évaluations
247 Chs

Chapter 117

"Yeah, Tong Tong just turned a little over three years old and is quite a handful... Qianxue, hurry up and wash up for breakfast, it's getting late." Yati, holding her son, glanced at the clock on the wall, and quickly urged Qianxue before hurrying downstairs.

An Ling Cemetery.

When Qianxue arrived at grandma's gravestone with the White Chrysanthemum Yati had given her, she found that someone had beaten her to it and had placed chrysanthemums there. Also, several bunches of chrysanthemums that were gradually withering lay beside, as if someone had been visiting grandma regularly.

Who could it be? She definitely wouldn't think of her uncle; he hadn't been involved during grandma's serious illness before she passed away, let alone after her eternal departure.

She lifted her eyes to look around the cemetery, where neat rows of gravestones filled her view. Perhaps because it was too early, there seemed to be no one around.