Secrets Of The Neglected Wife: When Her True Colors Shine

“You!” Colton bellowed, disbelief clear in his voice.

Allison had become completely unruly! In their three years of marriage, no matter what outrageous demands he or his mother made—no matter how absurd—they were never met with resistance.

Allison always complied.

But now, it seemed she would have to pay a much higher price to get her way.

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"If you agree to this request, we will not only give you a sum of money, but we will give you 5% of the shares of the Stevens Group.

And let's face it, you never know when you might need something from the Stevens family," Colton proposed, confident that his offer was generous.

After all, the entire Stevens family would owe Allison a favor if she accepted the offer.

What more could she want?

Allison responded with a cold, distant laugh full of ambiguity.

Colton thought he could lure her in with emotional manipulation.

However, it was obvious that he had no intention of handing her those shares.

He thought a few flattering words would be enough to entice her.

What a farce.

The partnership with the Everett Group was worth far more than the 5% she was offering him.

When she'd crawled up to Kellan, practically on her knees, she'd promised him 10%, and that was just for an introduction.

Now he expected her to hand him an opportunity on a silver platter for a mere fraction of that?

“I don’t recall this place doing IQ testing.

Maybe you should detour to the mental hospital next door,” Allison snapped.

“I’ve met shameless people before, Colton, but you? You’re in a class by yourself.

Do you even understand what the word ‘divorce’ means?” She took a deliberate step forward, her eyes sharp and unyielding.

“It means you make me sick.

”

Allison hadn't spoken so directly in years.

Subtlety was usually her weapon of choice, but this time Colton had taken it too far.

“Well, Allison, if you’re not willing to help, there’s no need to insult him,” came a voice from behind.

It was Melany, entering at just the right moment, placing herself between Colton and Allison.

Her presence alone made it impossible for Colton to back away now.

“I know you just got back from Lloyd Mansion, Allison,” Melany said, her tone soft but laced with venom.

“But just because you’ve managed to climb the social ladder…”

Melany’s words were sharp, her tone laced with hidden satisfaction.

“Going up the ranks doesn’t mean you have to treat people you once knew so ruthlessly.

Kellan may like you now, and he may take you in, but you know how much these high-society families value status.

It wouldn’t hurt to leave yourself an exit strategy, Allison.

”

Her words seemed to defend Colton, but deep down, Melany was enjoying the tension between him and Allison.

That comment Allison had made about Lindy had been like opening Pandora's box, unleashing a chain of chaos.

Since then, Melany had been the target of Lindy's constant teasing.

Allison, however, just smiled, unfazed by Melany’s words.

“Yes, I was at the Lloyd mansion.

What exactly does that have to do with any of you?” Her tone was distant, as if she didn’t understand why her personal life was being dragged into this discussion.

Were Colton and Melany still thinking in such old-fashioned terms? Were they still stuck in the past?

Colton, already frustrated by how much he had to stoop, was now seething with rage.

Strangely, he hadn't been bothered by Allison mentioning spending time with a male escort.

But the thought of her being with Kellan, however, was unbearable.

The thought filled him with a deep sense of humiliation.

He couldn't even pinpoint what made him angrier: that she'd left him, or that she'd found her way into Kellan's life.

“You are an absolute disgrace!” Colton roared, his hand raised, as if he was ready to hit Allison.

Allison's eyes grew cold, and in one fluid motion she pulled a small sword from her sleeve, its blade reflecting the light.

But just as Colton's hand began to descend, someone intervened.

A man dressed in a tailored suit stepped forward and, in one swift, effortless motion, twisted Colton's arm.

Crack.

A scream, high and agonized, filled the air, the unmistakable sound of bones breaking echoing through the room.

“My arm! My arm.

” Colton gasped, drenched in sweat, his entire body shaking as if he had just been pulled from ice-cold water.

He looked down at his arm, now twisted and bent at a grotesque angle, unable to comprehend the searing pain.

“You…” He turned around, furious, only to be met with a pair of cold, deep eyes.

Behind the suited man sat Kellan, in his wheelchair.

Sherman, the man in the suit, let go of Colton's arm and respectfully announced, "Mr.

Lloyd, I've taken care of the trash.

"