Traded for His First Love / Chapter 7: The Letter of Separation
Traded for His First Love

Traded for His First Love

Author: Benjamin Turner


Chapter 7: The Letter of Separation

I could hardly believe my ears.

But Aubrey called out to me again, as if calling a dog: “Hey, you—get over here.”

Seeing I still didn’t move, she stomped her foot and clung to Marcus’s arm.

“See, she doesn’t listen to me at all!”

Marcus patted her comfortingly, then signaled the security guard with his eyes.

The guard understood at once and dragged me over.

He grabbed my elbow—firm but not rough. For a second, I felt more like an unwelcome guest than someone who had called this place home.

Aubrey was finally satisfied. She stretched out a finger and poked my shoulder:

“I don’t know about others, but I’m not generous enough to share a husband with another woman.”

“You can stay as house manager, but from now on, you’re not allowed to share a bed with the stupid dummy.”

“If I catch you seducing him, hmph, don’t blame me for being ruthless. Do you understand?”

“Heh.”

Even though I was raised to keep calm and hide my feelings, I couldn’t help but be amused by her words.

A bitter laugh escaped me. The absurdity of it all—my marriage, my dignity, being whittled away by a woman who didn’t even know my first name half the time.

“Perhaps Marcus didn’t make it clear to you. For me to become just a house manager is absolutely impossible.”

Hardly had I finished speaking when my wrist was suddenly seized in a vice grip.

Before I could react, Marcus had dragged me far away.

He shoved me into the living room and slammed the door behind us.

“Natalie, I’ve left you alone for so many days. Why haven’t you calmed down yet?”

“Rest assured, Marcus, I am perfectly calm.”

Marcus was caught off guard by my answer.

He glared at me, then spoke again:

“If you’re really calm, why can’t you see that staying in the house as house manager is your best option now?”

“If I really separate from you, do you think anyone else would dare marry you?”

“Do you think Mr. Carter would let you stay at home? He might send you to live with your grandparents or even force you out.”

“That has nothing to do with you, Marcus.”

“Fine, Natalie. Guess you’re tougher than you look.”

He kicked open the door and ordered the staff to bring pen and paper.

The whole house seemed to shrink around us, the wallpaper’s faded pattern pressing in, Lily’s footsteps echoing down the hall.

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