Forced Marriage: My Wife, My Redemption-Chapter 233: You dare say that again?

In Davis’s bedroom, everything remained still. The heavy curtains were tightly drawn, blocking out the light and wrapping the room in a cocoon of calmness. Jessica lay curled against Davis, her breathing slow and steady. She was completely exhausted, almost out of herself.

Their phones, placed on the bedside table, blinked silently—lights flashing with message after message—reminders, updates, reports.

But no sound disturbed the silence. Davis had turned off all alerts before lying in bed that morning. He didn’t want anything to wake her. Not today.

She had looked too tired and drained, with the signs clearly visible in her red eyes and the dark circles beneath them. The sigh of relief she gave earlier after they finished discussing the plans for the day had been alarming. She had slumped back in the chair, and he could see how deeply worn out she was.

She had given everything—working harder than anyone else. She had taken on far too much since they arrived in Noveria, and yet he had done so little to ease her burden. A wave of guilt tightened in his chest. Was bringing her to Noveria really the right decision?

Slowly, he shifted and slipped out from under the covers, careful not to wake her. If it were up to him, he would have preferred she sleep all through the day. She stirred slightly but didn’t open her eyes.

Inside the bathroom, Davis showered quickly, letting the cold water clear his thoughts. Afterward, he dressed in a clean, casual outfit.

He moved to the armchair near the window and picked up his tablet to check the media buzz. He pulled aside the curtain just enough to let in a little filtered sunlight. Settling into the seat, he began scrolling through the morning headlines.

"Anticipation Rises for the New Group’s Relaunch."

"Noveria’s Investors Await the New Empire’s Debut."

"Top-Tier Executives Recruited with Earth-Shattering Salaries."

"Workers from All Walks of Life Employed."

"Who Is the Man Behind the Scene?"

"Stock Market Ready for Major Trend Changes."

#Meet the Force Behind the Project#

The more he read, the deeper his frown became. Then, a particular post caught his attention. It had a picture showing Jessica’s back, whether intentional or not, and the caption read: Is this lady the force behind the group?

His fingers hesitated over the screen.

Clicking the article open, he scanned the contents—part admiration, part curiosity. Some praised her elegance and mystery. Others questioned her background and identity. None of them knew who she really was.

Good. Let them keep guessing.

As he studied the media reactions, Davis couldn’t shake off the sense of unease slowly building inside him. Everything looked fine on the surface. No obvious sabotage. No new drama from the rival factions in the family. But still—something didn’t feel right. It was all too quiet. Too still.

He let out a long sigh.

Jessica shifted on the bed, murmuring his name and patting the space beside her lightly. Then her eyes flew open.

Davis turned instantly, rising from the chair and hurrying to her side. He grabbed a glass of water and returned to the bed, sitting upright and pulling her gently into his arms as he brought the water to her lips. She drank a little, soothing her dry throat.

"Thank you," she mumbled with a small sigh, rubbing her eyes.

"You’re awake," he whispered, brushing a strand of hair from her face.

She gave a faint smile. "What time is it?"

"Just past eleven," he replied.

Her eyes widened. "No way!"

He chuckled. "Relax. You need the rest. Or do you want to kill yourself?" he asked seriously.

Jessica groaned softly but didn’t argue. "I overslept," she muttered, her brow creased with worry.

"You deserved it," Davis replied. "You’ve been working non-stop."

"I had to," she whispered. "Tonight has to be perfect."

He leaned down and kissed her forehead. "It will be."

She reached for his hand and held it tightly. "Stay with me a little longer."

He nodded, and she rested her head against his chest, breathing deeply. Davis noticed her tense expression. His brow creased.

"Baby, what is it?" he asked anxiously.

Jessica shook her head lightly. "Nothing. I’m fine," she replied, though her voice sounded weak. She kept rubbing her forehead, trying to ease the throbbing pain.

Davis’s heart sank. He picked up his phone, about to call someone, when she grabbed his arm to stop him. "Don’t worry. I’m okay. Just a little imbalance."

"Then you’re going to the hospital now," he said firmly.

"Hey, can we not talk about the hospital? I’m okay. Let’s just get ready. We have a lot to do today," she said, trying to stand up. But her body gave way, and she lost her balance. Her eyes closed in fear of hitting the floor—only to be caught by strong arms that wrapped securely around her.

"Jessica! Are you trying to kill yourself?" Davis asked, his voice sharp and cold—a tone she wasn’t used to hearing from him.

Jessica looked up at him, wide-eyed and confused, her eyes welling up with tears.

"Shouldn’t we finish the launch before anything else? Besides, I’m not sick," she whispered.

"Do you even hear yourself?" he snapped. "You say you’re not sick, but you’re dizzy? You’ve been burning out every day, and you say you’re fine?"

Jessica looked away. She didn’t want to go to the hospital. But how could she explain to him the fear she had—born from the long days she’d spent in hospitals with her dying mother?

Davis stared at her with a hard expression, though his heart was a mess inside. "Listen to me—you’re not going anywhere today. I’m calling the doctor. We’ll hang up a few bottles of nutrients if needed—just enough to get you steady before the launch."

He turned and walked toward the lounge, his fists clenched by his sides. The image of her tear-filled eyes haunted him, but he had to be firm. He couldn’t lose her to exhaustion. Not now. Not ever.

Back in the room, Jessica dropped back onto the bed, her shoulders sagging, tears flowing freely down her cheeks. She wiped at them with the back of her hands, hurt and confused.

"Couldn’t he have said it better? That cold voice," she murmured.

"I shouldn’t be crying about this," she tried to convince herself. But the more she tried to stop the tears, the faster they came.

The door creaked open. Jessica quickly wrapped herself in the duvet, hiding her face. She didn’t want him to see her crying. What if he laughed at her?

Davis stood silently beside the bed, his eyes soft as he watched the small figure trembling under the blanket. He sighed quietly.

He sat on the edge of the bed and tried to pull the cover down, but she resisted.

"Okay, I’m sorry," he said gently. "But can you please uncover your head? You’re going to suffocate."

"Not your business," she snapped from under the duvet.

"Sure, it’s not my business," Davis replied with a teasing smirk, "but it is the baby’s business."

At those words, Jessica pulled the duvet down quickly, glaring at him. "You dare say that again?"

Davis clicked his tongue. "Who would dare say such a thing unless he wants to die?" he said playfully.