As she lost consciousness, she heard his cold, sharp voice in her ear.
“This is the price you pay for hurting Savannah…”
This time, Sydney remained unconscious for three days.
When she finally opened her eyes, a familiar figure stood before her.
Preston’s brow was tired, his forehead slightly furrowed, and his tone uncharacteristically gentle.
“You’re awake. Why didn’t you tell me you were pregnant? The doctor says you just miscarried; you need to rest,” he said. “Don’t be jealous of Savannah anymore. As long as you behave, I won’t divorce you. To the public, you will always be my wife.”
He pressed, “Chicago hasn’t been well lately. Sydney, look, you gotta be more understanding. If you can’t help me, at the very least, don’t make things harder. You and Savannah will continue living under the same roof. You must get along with her.”
“Hah.” Sydney scoffed. “Preston, what do you even think I am? A fool?”
They killed her son and now expect her to get along with Savannah? Did this jerk really think Sydney was that easy to manipulate?