Chasing My Pregnant Wife



Sydney threw off the covers, got out of bed, and started putting on her clothes.

"Sweetheart, where are you going?" Geoffrey asked.

"I don't have time to waste with you. Geoffrey, if it weren't for your threats, I would never have let you touch me. You know perfectly well how disgusting the things you've done are. You haven't shed a single drop of blood yourself, but you manage to make everyone suffer while you sit back and reap the benefits. Truly devious. To you, Sebastian is nothing more than a tool. You've never seen him as your son!"

After getting dressed, Sydney picked up her bag, ready to leave.

"Sydney," Geoffrey said heavily. "Sebastian is our son, and that's an unchangeable fact. I love you, too. I've already compromised this much-even if you don't divorce Wesley, it's fine. Just spend some time with me, that's all I ask. What more do you want?"

Sydney turned back around, her face full of rage.

"Geoffrey, I'll tell you what I want. I will free myself from you just wait and see! I refuse to believe there isn't someone out there who can bring you down."

With a loud bang, Sydney slammed the door shut and stormed out.

Geoffrey let out a cold laugh, his gaze gradually turning vicious. He grabbed a pillow and violently threw it onto the floor.

"Sydney, you think you can escape from me? Impossible! I get whatever I want, and anything I want to win back, I will-even if I have to destroy it!"

The dark night cast a bleak scene over the deserted landscape.

The river flowed quietly, like a mirror reflecting the desolate, silent sky. Abandoned containers and warehouses, eroded by time, stood along the riverbank.

A gentle breeze skimmed across the river, bringing a hint of moisture and chill, though it couldn't dispel the darkness of the scene.

Stars dotted the night sky, their faint light obscured by dense clouds, casting the riverbank in a mysterious, oppressive atmosphere.

Theodore stood along the riverside with a group of men in black, all gazing at the vehicle that had been pulled from the water.

The vehicle was barely recognizable.

Its sides were riddled with bullet

holes, the glass had been

ne

and the tires had been d

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UMS

Theodore's eyes were fixed on the car, his face etched with anxiety and unease. Shadows of sorrow

weighed heavily over his brow, a

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helpless and desperate grief swirling madly in his eyes. He almost lost his footing, barely held up by the person beside him.

"Mr. Spencer, we've searched this river thoroughly. We didn't find a

et

body. We also checked the surroundings, and there were numerous bullet holes in the warehouses and containers nearby. This area is notoriously unsafe with frequent gang skirmishes here, and bloodstains are common on the ground. We found traces of fresh blood, indicating a recent fight, but it's all been cleaned up, and no news reported it. It seems some force suppressed this incident. Since Miss Young's car turned up here, it's likely she met a grim fate."

They had no choice but to give Theodore the worst possible news, though Theodore had likely come to that conclusion himself.

Theodore's face was deathly pale, his lips drained of color.

He steadied himself and clenched his fists. A terrifying fury flashed in his eyes.

"Keep looking. I want to see her, whether she's alive or dead!"

He refused to believe that Rosalie was truly gone; he refused to believe it!

Why had Rosalie come here? What exactly had happened? What had they done to her?

Theodore couldn't bear to imagine that scene.