After divorce, Ex-wife Revealed Identities

Logan turned around and looked at Franklin silently.

He hesitated if he should tell Franklin about Sylvia's secret.

However, the virus was like a time bomb.

She might die because of it at any time.

The last thing he want was Sylvia's death.

He didn't know what his grandfather told Sylvia on his deathbed, but he knew Sylvia was his elder sister when they were young.

It was Sylvia who took him to join the Dark Night and cultivated him to be her right hand. Then there was the second most powerful man, Logan Mertens.

And Sylvia allowed Eden to do what he liked in order to keep him from some dark events.

She just protected the brothers in silence.

Maybe, it was time for him to repay her.

"Do you know the virus?" said Logan's low and calm voice in the room.

"What?" Franklin clenched his fists, stunned.

Logan actually knew the secret of Sylvia.

He felt as bitter as bile. He thought that he was familiar with Sylvia, but it was not the truth.

It seemed he knew nothing about her in fact.

"There's an incurable virus which will live and die with its host. The virus will undermine the willpower and body of the host. It craves blood from the opposite sex. And rare blood is its favorite. To absorb the 'nutrient’, it will urge the host to have sex." Franklin's face was cold.

Franklin looked at Logan's impassive, with his chilly pupils shrunk.

His temples ached again, like an awl piercing his nerves violently.

He suddenly knew why Logan phoned him last time.

It was the reason.

Sylvia suffered from the virus, thereby needing his RH-negative blood.

His knuckles turned white due to his clenching. His heart seemed to be hammered with a nail that gradually pierced deeper and ultimately made him no longer tolerate the pain.

He almost used all his strength to say a word hoarsely, "So, I'm only her painkiller. And the marriage four years ago was expedient, wasn't it?" Logan was still blank-faced, looking at him. But there was a flash of pain and sympathy in his eyes. He said, "Mr. Maskelyne, you are clever as expected. The meeting in front of the hospital was elaborated. She had to marry somebody to ease the pain. And she finally chose you after investigations and confirmations." In the room, it was so quiet that only the patter outside and Franklin's heavy breathing could be heard.

A pang of heartache seized him. He raised his lips slightly and spoke in an extremely cold voice, "I thought | was the sovereign of our marriage. | never expected that it was a trick. She tricked me and divorced me. Good for you, Sylvia!" Unexpectedly, their marriage was only a designed scheme and a joke.

"She's gonna marry the masked man? Or whoever? So, she couldn't wait to divorce me?" Franklin stood straight, his breathing fast and heavy.

"Nope. After marrying you, the virus gradually dies down. Therefore, when you offered a divorce, she agreed without hesitation.

However, the virus came to life frequently later." The orange light shone on Franklin's face. He sneered, "Should | express my gratitude to her for marrying me to great lengths?" "The virus attacks her now. Save her or not, it depends on you." Logan looked at Franklin, feeling a bit fatigued, "I tell you about this because I'm scared. Each time, she was almost tortured to death. | don't like it." "What a great admirer! Just give away your beloved to another man," said Franklin pointedly.

He couldn't believe that he had totally no idea of Sylvia's secret.

And what made him mad was that Sylvia schemed to marry him. He used to think she was a cageling. However, he was the fish in her pool.

What was left to him was heartache.

"Have you known her for many years? Earlier than our marriage?" "Yes," Logan said. It was best for Sylvia to stay with Franklin.

In the room, there were only Sylvia and Franklin.

Logan had left.

The man looked down at the lady on the bed. Her perfect face was still attractive, even when she was in a coma.

Her burning cheeks were charming.

Franklin stood in front of the bed, like a lost child.

She stayed with him for living longer.

It seemed that his heart was soaked in bitter water.

His mind messed up. His ears hummed.

His heart shrank and twinged. His emotions were out of control.

He closed his eyes and opened them. In a trance, he was like a ghost wandering around.

After a long while, "Noooo." the lady on the bed struggled to fight against something.

She seemed to be in an interminable dream where the masked man intimidated her, and she pushed him away.

"No! Back off!" Her voice was as hoarse as there was sand full of her mouth.

She was so weak that her voice was faint.

Franklin was standing here, looking at her struggle and pain and feeling complicated.

He never knew that something he never heard could make this lordly and aloof lady in such a condition.

He didn't know what to do.

Did she feel that pain when the virus attacked her every time? Her new-changed sleepwear was damped by sweats. It seemed the clothes were picked up from the rain.

Her body, gorgeous as a rose, was extremely attractive to him.

However, he wanted to refuse her.

He didn't descend to having sex with a lady who schemed with him.

Whom did she think about now? Whom did she shout at? Was it he? Her ex-husband? "Franklin has RH-negative blood. He will save me. Get away from me!" Sylvia growled suddenly, seemingly sparing no effort.

After that, she was lying there feebly as if she was in a state of prostration or a coma again.

Franklin's pupils shrank, staring at her ghastly white face.

What did she say? She called his name! She was awaiting him! Franklin's heart thudded, almost leaping out of his chest.

He couldn't control himself anymore. His lips fell on hers violently.

The air seemed to be burnt.

Two hours later, Franklin walked to the bathroom, drenched in sweat.

Meanwhile, Sylvia, on the bed, recovered. Her temperature returned to normal and the red on her face faded away.

Franklin held Sylvia in his arms, cleaned the bed, and put her down.

Franklin put a new sheet and a new cover by himself.

The used sheet was as wet as last time when Sylvia got attacked by the virus in Pearlhall Villa, by her sweat.

At that moment, he had no idea; but now, he knew it clearly.

He really wondered if the virus was incurable.

He called a phone number.

In New York. At midnight. Lexton was sleeping with a blonde-hair beautiful woman in his arms.

When there came the noisy phone ring, he angrily snatched the phone and said, "You'd better have good reasons! Or..." Before he finished, a cold voice interrupted him, "Or what?" Lexton was suddenly awake like being poured iced water. His sleepy eyes turned bright, "Franklin? What's wrong? Does your disease worsen?" Franklin said in an indifferent and icy tone, "I got something to ask you." Five minutes later, Lexton said in shock, "Gosh! It really exists? | used to think it documentary only." "So you know it?" said Franklin, squinting slightly.

Lexton put the woman away and sat up, "Franklin, though I'm the expert of psychological diseases, | also dabbled with other difficult diagnoses. | once learned about it in an abstract. It's a shame that there was no cure for it." "Lexton, | need it. And | need you." The tall handsome man in black shirt stood leisurely in front of the window, with the phone in his hand. His eyes were cold.

The patters on the window were like thuds on his heart.

"I will ask my seniors and my teachers. Maybe they can deal with it. | will let you know in time if anything comes up." Lexton paused for a while and said, "But there's not much hope."