The Divorced Heiress’s Revenge

Ryan returned to the living room dejected. After putting Carrie to bed, Yasmin descended the stairs.
As Ryan looked up, their gazes met, and Yasmin put her head down in fright.
"Any lower, and your head will hit the floor. Are you an ostrich?"
With his brows furrowing in annoyance, Ryan went to the sofa to sit down. He took out a cigarette to hold between his lips, only
to remember that Carrie did not like the smell of tobacco. In the end, he did not light the cigarette.
Yasmin kept her head down throughout.
The usually callous and unapproachable woman was now timid with guilt.
"Come here."
Yasmin took a few steps to get to Ryan, but the silence felt like a lifetime.
"Is Carrie asleep?" Ryan's voice was husky.
"She's asleep."
Yasmin hung her head low, her voice trembling. "I'll pack my things and leave right away. I won't get in your way."
"You can stay." Ryan's icy words granted Yasmin a pardon.
"B-But you said..."
"You are close with Carrie. I know she won't have any appetite if she loses you."
Ryan removed the cigarette from his lips and crushed it in his grasp. At the end of the day, he could not be cruel to the woman
who was devoted to him. "You should stay and take care of Carrie. Even though you're clumsy with laundry and cooking, I won't
feel any better leaving Carrie's care to someone else. This cannot happen again, or I won't just fire you. I'll kill you."
The last sentence was a joke.
As remorse washed over Yasmin, she shied away from his gaze and fought back the tears.
"I'm sorry, sir. It won't happen again."

Late at night, Ryan, in matching pajamas with Carrie, reviewed files on the sofa under the soft ceiling light.
He was not a workaholic like Justin. However, he was too distraught to sleep, and he needed some distraction.
"Ugh... No! Don't hit me! Don't hit me!"
Suddenly, Carrie kicked the duvet away in her sleep and wrangled around as if she were pinned down. She let out a frantic
scream. "I'm a dummy! I'm an idiot! Just don't hit me!" "Carrie!"
Ryan got up and ran to the bed. He scooped her up by the waist and pulled her into his arms. "Don't be scared. I'm here. Don't
be scared." "Don't hit me! Please, don't."
He held her tight, his palm running down her drenched back. "Who hit you? Tell me, Carrie. Who hit you?"
Carrie abruptly opened her eyes and gasped for air as sweat soaked her body.
"Who picked on you, Carrie? Tell me who hit you."
Ryan's eyes turned red, and his tone was stubborn and ruthless. "I'll kill whoever touches you."
He firmly believed that dreams came from thoughts during the day.
Something must have happened for Carrie to have a nightmare.
However, Ryan did a good job of shielding Carrie from harm. Yasmin stuck close to Carrie at school, so no one would have
gotten close to her.
"N-No one."
Carrie put her arms around the man's waist and shook her head with closed eyes. "I guess it was quite a fright this afternoon, so
I had a nightmare.
"No one picked on me."
Her horrifying memories were worse than a nightmare. All she wanted to do was forget about the past and pretend like nothing
ever happened. Besides, her abuser was Ryan's sister.
Blood was thicker than water, and she did not want to put her beloved in a difficult spot.

"Really? Was it really a nightmare, Carrie?" Ryan kissed her forehead. His lips were cold from the panic.
"Yeah... It was just a dream."
Ryan showed great self-restraint tonight because Carrie was injured.
However, Carrie's touches and words rushed a fire to his loins. He climbed on top of her in bed and kissed her collarbone, her
chin, and her lips until they were lost in each other's touch.
It was a night of passion.
Ryan could never get enough of Carrie, who was coy and fragile in bed.
Her slender waist arched high, curving gracefully like a delicate crescent moon.
The moon outside the window paled in comparison.
Ryan's stunt of turning the jet around cost him an important meeting.
Hence, he got up early in the morning to see Logan and apologize.
Carrie was not the type to sleep in, so she woke up when he did. She helped Ryan into a suit and fixed his tie, acting more like a
devoted wife.
Ryan read the financial articles on the iPad with his legs crossed on the sofa while Carrie had a shower in the bathroom.
Yasmin entered with a tray of breakfast.
"Yasmin."
Ryan lowered his gaze and spoke with a languid raspiness. "The sheets are stained. Change them."