Chapter 3: Jessica Turner and Vengeance, I Desire Both

Alexander Smith furrowed his brow, wishing to deny, yet unsure how to elucidate his actions. Forced to sidestep her query, he uttered lightly, "Moreover, if you wish Christopher Anderson well, it would be prudent for you to comport yourself with decorum and not attract undue attention."

Having spoken, Alexander Smith rose and proceeded to the bathroom. Upon finishing his ablutions, he found Jessica Turner still lingering at the doorway. Without hesitation, he pulled her into the bathroom, crudely undressing her and forcefully assisting her with bathing.

Traces of their passionate encounter from the previous night adorned her body like stardust—whether born of love or desire was uncertain. Suddenly overwhelmed by emotion, Alexander, disregarding the water droplets clinging to them, carried her into the bedroom.

From initial resistance, Jessica's body gradually surrendered involuntarily. As she berated herself for her perceived folly, tears streamed down her face as she clung to him.

The night grew deeper, and a wearied Jessica Turner succumbed to sleep. However, Alexander Smith remained restless, his fingers idly caressing Jessica Turner's slightly swollen lips, his countenance inexplicably inscrutable.

He sought revenge, yet he also desired Jessica Turner. How could he reconcile the two?

The following day, Jessica Turner awoke at half-past nine in the morning. She stirred in momentary confusion before a tidal wave of recollection washed over her. Swiftly regaining composure, she sat up and reached for the phone nearby.

To her dismay, the phone was powered off, explaining why the alarm set for seven the previous night at the hospital had not sounded. As she contemplated switching it on, a knock resounded from outside.

Donning a random coat, Jessica Turner answered the door. Through the peephole, she discerned a woman with her back turned—not Katherine Carter, but someone vaguely familiar yet elusive in recollection.

Upon opening the door, the woman turned, and without a word, launched a slap toward Jessica Turner. Reacting with impressive speed, Jessica barely evaded the blow, taking a step back before identifying her assailant.

It was Isabella Turner.

Ah, Isabella Turner—the half-sister born merely a month apart from Jessica, and the betrothed of Alexander Smith.

Having missed her target, Isabella Turner wore a disappointed expression, her countenance darkening. "Indeed, it's you, the devious one. Just like your mother, always enticing men who are already taken."

Jessica Turner's expression darkened as she retorted, "Have you forgotten who the home-wrecker was that meddled in my mother's marriage? Shall I enlighten everyone on who the real illegitimate daughter is?"

Isabella Turner, angered by the retort, pointed at Jessica Turner, accusing, "You still have the audacity to speak. If your mother hadn't interfered, how could my parents have separated?"

Jessica Turner sneered, "Ask the insatiable Edward Turner how they parted."

If not for Edward Turner's avarice for the Anderson family's wealth, attempting to leverage it for his social ascent, incessantly pursuing Jessica Turner's mother with honeyed words, deceiving her with persuasive language, not only leading to her marriage to Edward Turner but also securing the Turner family's foothold in the coastal city with the help of Jessica Turner's grandfather and uncle. A true wolf in sheep's clothing.

Isabella Turner glared at Jessica Turner, the girl who had always outshone her in every aspect from childhood. Both daughters of Edward Turner, Jessica Turner resided in a grand mansion from birth, experiencing life in the lap of luxury. She commanded attention in any circumstance.

Why should she, Isabella Turner, be destined to share a rented room with her mother, leading a life of obscurity despite having all the comforts? Even when her mother moved into the mansion after Jessica Turner's mother's death, evicting Jessica Turner in the process, she merely transitioned from the grand Turner estate to the opulent Anderson residence, remaining the enviable heiress.

Why?

Why was fate so biased, endowing her with the best family background and stunning looks, not to mention intelligence? Try as she might, Isabella Turner could never catch up with Jessica Turner. During school, Jessica Turner was almost synonymous with being the top student in her grade. After graduation, Jessica Turner effortlessly joined the most prestigious drama troupe in the coastal city, instantly landing a leading role.

And now, with the downfall of the Anderson family, Jessica Turner had become a pauper, while the man Isabella Turner had long harbored feelings for became her fiancé.

At this thought, Isabella Turner grinned, reveling in her triumph.

"Jessica Turner, considering our sisterly bond, I'll let you in on a secret." She touched her flat abdomen, her face radiating a smile hiding malice. "I'm carrying Alexander's child, and we're getting married soon."

"I'm carrying Alexander's child, and we're getting married soon."

This sentence echoed like thunder in Jessica Turner's ears, rendering her mind blank. Alexander Smith claimed he would never have another woman besides her, desired to wake up every morning with her by his side, expressed his eagerness to marry her quickly, and have children as beautiful as her.

All those declarations were now rendered farcical by the revelation of another woman claiming to bear his child. How ironic!

Seeing Jessica Turner pale, her eyes losing their luster, Isabella Turner relished the moment. Thoughts of the explosive revelation regarding the Anderson family bombarded her, compelling her to detonate it in Jessica Turner's presence.

"In fact, Alexander knew from the beginning that Christopher Anderson was responsible for Natalie Smith's accident all those years ago. Due to insufficient evidence, he couldn't send Christopher Anderson to prison. However, he deemed this vendetta necessary. When he discovered that you were the person Christopher Anderson cherished the most, he began to draw close to you. From the outset, you were merely a tool he employed for revenge."

"From the outset, you were merely a tool he employed for revenge."

This sentence functioned like an unseen knife, slicing through Jessica Turner's flesh and exposing her shattered heart.

Yet, Isabella Turner's subsequent words resembled a bomb, shattering her spirit.

"Jessica Turner, the Anderson family is finished, Christopher Anderson is finished. What right do you have to boast in front of me?"

Upon regaining her composure, Jessica Turner vehemently countered, "You're spouting nonsense. My uncle is perfectly fine, and the Anderson family is intact."

Isabella Turner sneered, raising her phone, "I guess you haven't seen today's news. Take a look, rush to the hospital, and perhaps you can still attend Christopher Anderson's funeral."

Trembling, Jessica Turner could not comprehend how Isabella Turner had exited. She mechanically unlocked her phone, each notification sound akin to a sharp blade piercing her heart.

In Katherine Carter's messages, there were over twenty texts, including texts, voice messages, and screenshots.

"Jessica Turner, why isn't your phone reachable? Do you know what happened to the Anderson family?"

"Jessica Turner, please return my call."

"Jessica Turner, your uncle is in trouble. Hurry to the hospital!"

"Jessica Turner, what are you doing? Hurry to the hospital!"

"Jessica Turner, your uncle, he

jumped off a building."

"Jessica Turner, are you okay? Where are you?"

The first screenshot contained a headline announcing the latest news: Christopher Anderson, the president of the Anderson family, unconscious and spitting blood.

The second screenshot depicted her uncle standing on the hospital rooftop.

The third screenshot showcased a vivid expanse of red outside the hospital.

Jessica Turner's hands shook uncontrollably, rendering her unable to stand.

Despite promising Alexander Smith that she would stay, allowing her uncle a chance at survival, she now faced a situation where Smith's sworn vengeance had taken a toll.

In the CEO's office of the Smith family, Alexander Smith, with a face of grim determination, slammed his tablet on the table, directing his query at his assistant, White. "What's going on? Who's behind this?"