Madly Yours (Nora Reed) novel Chapter 404

Why did she deserve it?

Why did Nora get to sit back and do absolutely nothing, yet still receive Hudson's unconditional devotion?

A man like Hudson was as cold as ice, merciless to everyone he met. Yet for Nora, he was ready to rip his own heart out and hand it to her.

They were both women. Why did Nora get all the luck?

She refused to accept it.

A flash of venom twisted Ginger's features. She pulled out her phone, scrolled to Nora's contact, and hit dial.

It rang several times, but no one picked up.

She tried again.

Still nothing.

Frowning, Ginger quickly typed out a text.

[Nora, are you free? Let's grab coffee.]

The message vanished into the void.

She waited for a while before firing off another.

[Nora, there's some private family business I need to discuss with you. It's about Hudson. Don't you want to hear it?]

Still no reply.

Grinding her teeth, Ginger lost the last shreds of her patience. She ordered her driver straight to Star Entertainment.

But upon arriving, she was hit with the news that Nora hadn't even come into the office today!

"When is she coming back?"

"I'm really not sure about that."

Standing in the middle of the lobby, Ginger's face cycled between sickly pale and furious red.

Desperation taking over, she commanded her driver to head straight to Cloudwater Estate.

Olive leaned casually against the gate pillar, hands shoved in her pockets, and gave her a slow up-and-down look. "Mrs. Lancaster? Looking like a rabid street fishwife?"

Ginger's face flushed a violent crimson, her chest heaving with exertion.

Suddenly, she felt something give way below. A warm, sticky rush of fluid slid down the inside of her thigh.

Her heart plummeted. She knew it was the dead fetus finally making its exit.

But she couldn't afford to look down. She couldn't afford to stop.

She had to make a scene today. She had to smear this blood squarely onto Cloudwater Estate's hands.

"Who are you calling a fishwife?!"

Ginger lunged forward, jabbing a finger furiously at Olive. "What kind of garbage does this estate hire? A pathetic imposter steals the real Mrs. Lancaster's spot, and now she trains her attack dogs to bark at their betters—"

Olive's brow furrowed heavily, the lazy smirk instantly evaporating from her face...

"Say that one more time, bitch. See if I don't rip your mouth right off your face."