Chapter 473:
Elyse tucked into her meal with gusto, shoveling bites down with an urgency that surprised even her. She didn’t
care whether Jayden was still like a child or not. The tiny tenant within her most definitely was.
Driscoll, mistaking her ravenous appetite for starvation, fretted, “There's plenty more. Please, pace yourself.”
Elyse fought down the nausea churning in her stomach, forcing another bite down. A sudden clarity washed over
her. Jayden’s opinion was relevant, of course, but it wasn’t the deciding factor. This child, this little miracle
blossoming inside her—she wanted it.
Driscoll hesitated. “How will you face Mr. Owen?”
Elyse kept her gaze firmly on her plate. “It depends on his intentions, | suppose. If he wants to be with me, then
we will be.”
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“And your intentions?” Driscoll pressed gently.
Her hand stopped. Finally, she met his gaze, confusion clouding her features. “Do my intentions matter? Didn't
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtyou say Jayden controls everything? If you want to know if we have a future, shouldn't you be asking him?”
A flicker of unease crossed Driscoll’s face.
Undeterred, Elyse declared, “I want fruit. A whole plate of it, and make it snappy.” A rebellious glint sparked in
her eyes. Just because Jayden said she couldn't eat, didn’t mean she wouldn't. She intended to eat, and eat a
lot!
“Certainly.” Driscoll nodded and hurried out to fulfill her request. Elyse continued eating, but a wave of weakness
washed over her. She slumped back in her chair, staring listlessly at the ceiling as she chewed.
Meanwhile, Driscoll reached Jayden’s study and knocked.
“Cin,” cJayden’s muffled voice. He looked up from his computer screen as Driscoll entered. “What is it?
Refusing her food again?”
Driscoll blinked, startled. How had Jayden known he was bringing food to Elyse? As if reading his mind, Jayden
scoffed. “If | told you not to provide her dinner, would you actually obey?”
Driscoll felt a surge of helplessness. “Sir,” he ventured carefully, “if you don’t truly want to harm her, why
restrict her food in the first place?”
Jayden’s jaw clenched. “She made a mistake,” he muttered, the image of Elyse wrapped in Pearce’s arms
flashing through his mind, a fresh wave of anger washing over him. He'd hoped she’d stay away from that man,
yet here she was, the very next day, cavorting with him again. Did she even care about him, her own husband?
Did she remember his warnings?
Fury bubbled up inside him. “Does she even care about me?” he roared, slamming his fist on the desk.
Driscoll chose his words with care. “Perhaps there's a misunderstanding. She isn’t that type of person. We've all
witnessed how much she cares for you.”
Jayden glared at him. “You're still defending her? She hurt me, and I'm not allowed to be angry?”
Knowing better than to argue, Driscoll held his tongue. Just as he was about to leave, Jayden'’s voice stopped
him.
“Wait. Give her whatever she wants. You think I'd actually starve her?” His stubborn expression betrayed his
words.
Driscoll bowed slightly. “Of course.” With that, he exited the study, already picturing a plate piled high with juicy
cherries, Elyse’s favorite.
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Ten minutes later, the fruit arrived. Elyse picked at it, her voice barely a whisper when she spoke, “You
mentioned Jayden’s parents didn’t care for him. Why is Bryce so loved?”
Driscoll, caught off guard, offered a bittersweet smile. “In families with two children, the firstborn often shoulders
the burden of expectations and becomes a pawn in inheritance battles. The younger one, naturally, becomes the
recipient of all the affection, free to live a carefree life.”
Elyse frowned thoughtfully. “So that explains Tess’s bias?”
Driscoll nodded. “Precisely. Especially since Jayden displayed exceptional intelligence at a young age, he became
their golden ticket to success. Bryce, on the other hand, was free to bask in their love.”
Elyse frowned. “But then Jayden’s leg injuries took away his inheritance rights.”
Driscoll shrugged. “The firstborn failed, so they shifted their hopes to the younger one.”
Elyse rubbed her temples, a wave of sadness washing over her. “The Owens seem cold and ruthless. Everyone
seems consumed by their own agendas.”
Driscoll spoke softly. “When wealth reaches a certain point, love becomes a luxury and money becomes the
driving force. That's the tragedy of the opulent.”.