Buying My Forever Wife novel Chapter 98

Ivy knew a disease like that required relentless rounds of chemotherapy, and the road to recovery would be agonizingly slow.

Her absolute top priority right now was securing the cash.

The moment she dropped Stella off at home, Ivy swallowed every ounce of her pride and texted Alaric.

Ivy: [Mr. Foster, can you come home tonight? I have a family emergency and I need to rush back to my hometown immediately.]

She clutched her phone, staring at the screen for a reply.

But he left her entirely on read.

Just as she was sitting down to dinner with Stella, however, the front door swung open and Alaric walked in.

Seeing her father, Stella slammed her fork down and clapped in pure delight.

"Daddy! You're finally back! Mommy and I missed you so much!"

Ivy immediately shot up from her chair to grab him a plate.

As he approached the table, she quickly pulled out a chair for him, forcing a sickeningly sweet tone.

"Darling, sit down. Mrs. Gable still isn't back, so you'll have to make do with what I cooked tonight."

Alaric's expression was carved from granite.

Hearing her call him 'Darling' felt incredibly grating and artificial.

Before, it used to stroke his ego and put him in a good mood.

But after realizing she found him repulsive and refused to fulfill her marital duties, the term was nothing but a cheap manipulation tactic.

The pet name actively disgusted him now.

Taking his seat, Alaric said coldly,

"Don't call me that. We aren't that close."

Another sharp pang of humiliation struck Ivy's chest.

Her face burned with embarrassment.

She didn't argue, simply taking her seat in utter silence.

Beside them, Stella pouted her lips, her big eyes blinking in confusion.

"Daddy, what are you talking about? Why can't Mommy call you Darling? You're literally her husband!"

Alaric shot his daughter a stern look. "This is adult business. Mind your own plate."

Stella scowled, glaring at him fiercely.

"You're being mean! I'm not talking to you anymore. Hmph!"

The little girl had a fierce temper of her own; she shoved her face into her bowl, furiously stabbing at her food.

After a long silence, Ivy finally spoke up.

After all, when he had offered to pay her to sleep with him, she had rejected him with absolute disdain.

And now, barely twenty-four hours later, she was begging him for cash.

Where was her pride?

Ivy felt incredibly pathetic.

Mr. Foster surely despised her and had absolutely no incentive to help her.

"Why on earth would I lend you a single dime?" Alaric demanded, his voice dangerously low.

His eyes sliced into her like twin daggers.

He found this girl's audacity genuinely amusing.

She had acted so high and mighty when he offered her millions.

And now, in record time, she was playing the weeping victim, begging for a handout.

She was such a spectacular actress, she belonged in Hollywood.

Ivy knew her time was running out; if she dragged this out, she would miss her train.

Keeping her head bowed, her fingers twisted together nervously. Stripping away the very last of her self-respect, she forced the words out.

"Then I'll make a trade. If you lend me a hundred thousand dollars right now, I'll fulfill my marital duties the second I get back."