He Forgot Her, Then Lost Her Forever

Chapter 3 Pay Ten Times Over

Josselyn carried the soup bowl forward, but Rosina spotted it right away—her eyes sharp with suspicion. "What's this?"

Darlene covered her mouth and giggled. "I heard Josselyn used to make herbal chicken broth for Zachary all the time. I wanted to taste it, so I asked her to make some for me, too."

"You can't drink this," Rosina said sharply.

A hard, forceful swing hit Josselyn's wrist. The soup bowl slipped from her hand, spilling scalding liquid over the back of her hand. Red, painful blisters bloomed on her skin.

Fury contorted Rosina's face as she shouted, "You bad luck charm! How dare you try to poison her soup? Do you want the Penrose family to have no heirs?"

The burning pain seared Josselyn's hand, making her eyes sting with tears. "I didn't...."

Rosina sneered and shoved her to the ground. "I know exactly what you're thinking. You thought you could never keep Zachary, so you're targeting Darlene now."

Josselyn crashed to the floor, her lower back slamming hard into the table edge. She doubled over in agony.

Ryland let out a cold laugh, his tone that of a strict family patriarch. "Shameless. We disowned you ages ago, and you still keep clinging to Zachary like a leech. I'll say this plainly—this is the Penrose family's villa. It'll be Zachary and Ms. Brock's wedding home soon. How much longer are you going to overstay your welcome?"

A bitter laugh bubbled up from Josselyn's throat.

Beside her, Zachary's brow twitched—barely perceptible.

He'd seen her cry, seen her rage, seen her break down completely. But he'd never seen her laugh like this, quiet and laced with mockery.

"Fine. I'll move out," she said flatly.

She was leaving anyway—she didn't need to stay in the Penrose family's villa another day.

Josselyn turned to grab her things, but Darlene reached out and grabbed her arm, smiling sweetly. "They are just worried about me, so they spoke sharply. Don't hold it against us, Josselyn. There's a banquet tonight—come with us."

"No, I..." Josselyn started to refuse, but Zachary cut in coldly, "If Darlene wants you to go, you'll go."

His eyes were deep and frigid.

His voice carried an unyielding authority, no room for argument.

A hint of self-mockery flickered in Josselyn's eyes. "Okay. I'll go."

That night, she walked into the hotel listed on the invitation.

Beneath the elaborate crystal chandeliers, a sea of bright pink roses stretched out—each petal inlaid with tiny sparkly rhinestones, glinting under the light.

"Mr. Penrose really outdid himself," a guest whispered. "Every diamond here is one-of-a-kind. A whole garden of pink roses like this must have cost a billion dollars at least."

"That's nothing," another guest scoffed. "Mr. Penrose is a total wife guy. Rumor has it the Royal Symphony Orchestra only performs for billionaires who splash out hundreds of billions of dollars, but he hired them to play all night just for her."

Under the dazzling lights, Darlene wore a sleek black gown, looking like a graceful princess.

Zachary, who was usually sharp and decisive, had dropped his cold exterior entirely. He dropped to one knee gently, slipping a pair of silver crystal heels onto Darlene's feet.

His gaze was soft and adoring, filled with nothing but love for her.

A man stepped forward. "You must be Mrs. Penrose! We've all heard how much Mr. Penrose dotes on you—you two are a perfect match!"

A companion elbowed him and whispered, "Don't be stupid! That's Ms. Brock. The real Mrs. Penrose is right there."

The man's face turned red with embarrassment. "Well... Mr. Penrose didn't even get a dress for his wife, but he made Ms. Brock the center of attention. No wonder people mix them up."

Murmurs rippled through the crowd—until the giant electronic screen suddenly flickered to life, showing Darlene's private photos.

On the screen, Darlene stood naked, her elegant shoulder blades marked with a web of bright red hickeys.

The contrast between her smooth skin and the dark marks sparked lewd whispers among the guests.

A gasp went through the room. Several men in the crowd pulled out their phones and snapped secret photos.

Tears welled in Darlene's eyes. She looked at Josselyn, her voice trembling with grievance. "I know you don't like me, Josselyn. You can hit me, yell at me—anything—but how could you... How could you do this?"

She broke down, choking on her sobs.

The guests erupted in angry whispers.

"This woman is vicious! Ms. Brock is about to get married, and she's trying to ruin her reputation!"

"She's just jealous that Ms. Brock is marrying Mr. Penrose. She thinks this will make him take her back—what a delusional idiot."

All eyes turned to Josselyn, filled with disgust and contempt.

Zachary's cold gaze locked onto her. His stare was so frigid it cut through her like ice.

His voice was old, too. "I warned you to stay away from Darlene."

Josselyn's throat tightened. "It wasn't me. If you don't believe me, check the security cameras. I was..."

A hard slap cut her off, stinging her cheek and leaving it burning.

Zachary's eyes were icy with rage. "Using such low, dirty tricks—you're disgusting. You think ruining Darlene's reputation will make me see you differently? Josselyn, dream on. I'd rather die than marry a woman like you."

Tears still streamed down Josselyn's face, despite her trying to hold them back. "I told you—it wasn't me."

His coldness deepened. His voice was a sharp command. "Still lying?"

Zachary ordered his men to drag her to a hotel room. A dozen cameras pointed at her as he loomed over her, a cruel smirk on his face. "You like taking secret photos, don't you? Now let's see how you like being the one photographed."

Her clothes were torn off by the men. Her smooth skin was exposed. They forced her into different poses, snapping photos nonstop.

"Stop... Zachary, please don't do this to me," Josselyn begged, thrashing and reaching for help.

But he just watched coldly, his eyes filled with mockery.

He said, "Did you think this would happen to you when you were sneaking photos of Darlene? I told you—she's my wife, and I swear I'll never let her suffer a single hurt. Anyone who hurts my wife will pay ten times over."

Her screams tore through the room.

Zachary didn't even glance back. His voice was cold and detached. "Keep shooting. I need a thousand private photos of her—not a single one missing."