The Contracted Ever After (Cordelia and Ronan)

Chapter 242

Ronan carried Cordelia's suitcases to her room before he took a seat on the soft and plush couch.

"Ma'am, my room is over there," Janice pointed out to a room shaded in twilight.

"Do you have a problem with my room?" Ronan asked Cordelia, his gaze fixed on her.

Cordelia was momentarily speechless. Although the house was in her name, she hadn't paid a dime for

it. "No objections," she finally managed to say.

"Janice will be responsible for cooking. Try to stay upstairs as much as you can," Ronan instructed. "If

you need anything and feel uncomfortable asking me, ask Janice."

"The children aren't yours. You don't have to go through all this trouble!" Cordelia burst out.

Cordelia remained standing by the entrance, where she could see Ronan's profile. She noticed a vein

throb on his temple.

"Ma'am, why pick a quarrel with Mr. Evans? It does you no good to irritate him,” Janice tried to mediate.

"Also, we're divorced now. You don't have to call me 'ma'am' anymore," Cordelia said to Janice.

"Well..." Janice was in a tight spot.

"Just call her Cordelia!" Ronan threw out coldly before he got up from the couch and went to his room

to change.

Cordelia also retreated to her room. After she had roughly tidied up, she pulled out her diary. The diary

she used to hand in daily was now hers to keep. She felt liberated, writing freely.

She jotted down the rollercoaster of events that had occurred recently. She could lie to Ronan, but she

couldn't deceive herself in the future. Her diary was a truthful record of her life. She locked her diary in

the drawer of her desk after writing.

Next door, in Ronan's room, he was scanning a pile of photocopied pages. They were entries from

Cordelia's old diary.

Ronan had figured that if Cordelia knew he was reading her diary, she wouldn't write honestly. So, he

had his assistant photocopy her diary daily, paying careful attention to her small traps, like a hair or a

bookmark that marked her place. Her diary was full of harsh words for him, scoundrel, bastard, and

more. Unfortunately, he wouldn't have her diary to read anymore.

...

Cordelia couldn't sleep well that night, waking up frequently and feeling drowsy during the day. Her

biological clock was in chaos. After writing in her diary, she crawled into bed and turned off the lights. In

her drowsy state, she thought she heard noises. Voices from the living room. Ronan's voice.

"Did you get rid of her child?"

"Did she have any resentment towards you for getting rid of her child? If not, what are you afraid of?"

Cordelia's heart leapt into her throat. She feared that Ronan was planning to abort her babies.

She broke out into a cold sweat. He had every reason to terminate her pregnancy, knowing the children

weren't his. It was unthinkable that Ronan would raise another man's children. So, this was why he had

brought her here!

Should she tell him the truth?

Just when Cordelia was at a loss, her phone rang several times. It was Jamie.

"Cordelia, where are you? Tell me," Jamie said.

Cordelia quickly sent him the location of the house.

"Are you coming over?" Cordelia asked Jamie.

"Yes, I'm worried about you. I'm coming to check on you."

Cordelia sent him a simple reply. [Okay.]

Cordelia knew that if she were alone in the house, Ronan would have free reign. But if there were more

people, it would be different. She hoped Jamie would arrive soon.

When Cordelia opened the door, Ronan had just hung up his phone call. She decided to wait outside

for Jamie, knowing that Ronan might not let him in. Exclusive content © by Nô(v)el/Dr/ama.Org.

"Awake?" Ronan asked her when he saw her come out.

"Yeah, I've been having trouble sleeping lately," Cordelia replied, her body still feeling cold from the

sweat that had dried on her skin, her hair damp. She sat down next to Ronan on the couch.

Noticing her damp hair, Ronan asked, "Why are you sweating so much?"

"Oh, it's nothing. Probably had a nightmare," Cordelia lied. She reckoned that it would take Jamie

about half an hour to reach her.

That half-hour was torturous for her. She was afraid that something might happen. No one could

escape Ronan's ruthlessness.