From Broken Husband to Three Sisters’ Zillionaire Heir

Chapter Two

The sound of Pervis's footsteps echoed through the empty corridors of Anna's villa as he climbed the stairs to their bedroom. The spacious house, once a symbol of their shared dreams, now felt like a mausoleum of broken promises. He pulled out a worn duffel bag from the closet and began methodically folding his clothes.

"Four years," he muttered, holding up a shirt Anna had bought him for their second anniversary. "Four years of pretending everything was fine."

Each item he packed carried a memory—some sweet, others bitter. The watch she'd given him when he'd first started donating blood for Noah. The books he'd never finished reading because he was always rushing to the hospital. The acceptance letter from Oxford he'd hidden away, the doctoral program he'd abandoned to stay with her.

Pervis held the letter for a moment longer than necessary, his fingers tracing the university seal. "Perhaps that was my first mistake," he whispered, a self-mocking smile playing at his lips. "Choosing love over my future."

The sound of the front door opening interrupted his thoughts. Voices drifted up from the entrance hall—Anna's measured tones and Noah's weaker responses. Pervis continued packing, his movements steady and deliberate.

Footsteps approached the bedroom, and Anna appeared in the doorway, her arm supporting Noah's slight frame. The young man looked pale but alert, his eyes immediately finding Pervis.

"What are you doing up here?" Anna asked, though her tone lacked its usual sharpness. She seemed almost uncertain, as if she'd expected him to be waiting downstairs like always.

"Packing," Pervis replied without looking up from his bag.

Anna frowned, guiding Noah to sit on the edge of the bed. "Noah didn't want to stay at the hospital tonight. He says it's too noisy there, too many machines beeping. I thought it would be better for him to rest here."

Pervis nodded, folding another shirt. "Alright."

The simple response seemed to catch Anna off guard. She'd clearly been preparing for an argument, for the familiar pattern of his jealousy and her defensive explanations.

"That's it?" she pressed. "You're not going to say anything?"

"What would you like me to say?" Pervis asked calmly, finally meeting her eyes.

Anna's frown deepened. Something flickered across her face—disappointment? Confusion? She turned to Noah, who was watching the exchange with keen interest.

"You need to understand," Anna continued, her voice taking on that patient tone she used when explaining things to difficult patients. "Noah's sister was my best friend in college. When she died, I promised her I would take care of him. He's like family to me."

"I understand," Pervis said simply.

"I don't want you getting jealous for no reason again," Anna added, her voice growing slightly sharper. "Your suspicions are becoming tiresome."

"I'm not jealous," Pervis replied, zipping up his bag.

Anna stared at him, clearly unsettled by his calm demeanor. Noah shifted uncomfortably on the bed, his eyes darting between them.

"What's in the bag?" Anna asked suddenly, noticing the duffel for the first time.

Pervis lifted it effortlessly. "Just some old things I'm throwing away."

"Throwing away?" Anna's voice rose slightly. "Why are you throwing things away now? It's nearly midnight."

"I have some errands to run," Pervis said, moving toward the door.

Anna stepped into his path, blocking his exit. "Wait. I haven't eaten all day, and neither has Noah. Cook something for us first."

Pervis paused, looking at her expectant face. "I'm afraid I can't tonight. I have other things to handle."

"Other things?" Anna's eyes flashed with familiar anger. "What could possibly be more important than taking care of Noah? Are you still upset about my bringing him here?"

Noah chose that moment to speak up, his voice weak and tremulous. "Anna, please don't fight because of me. I can go back to the hospital. I don't want to cause problems between you two."

Anna's expression softened immediately as she turned to Noah. "Nonsense. You're not going anywhere. You need rest and proper food."

She turned back to Pervis, her voice hardening. "Whatever you think you need to do can wait. I'm telling you to cook dinner for Noah. He's been through enough today."

"Anna—"

"I don't want to hear excuses," she interrupted coldly. "You will cook dinner, and then you can do whatever it is you're planning. Those are my terms. Otherwise, you're not leaving this house tonight."

Pervis stood quietly for a long moment, studying his wife's determined face. The old Pervis would have argued, would have pleaded for understanding. But the man holding the divorce papers in his jacket pocket simply nodded.

"Very well," he said, setting down his bag.

Anna's posture relaxed slightly, satisfaction replacing the tension in her shoulders. "Good. Noah, you rest here. I'm going to change out of these clothes and freshen up. I'll be down in a few minutes."

As Anna disappeared into the bathroom, Noah remained on the bed, his pale eyes following Pervis's movements. The moment they were alone, his expression changed completely.

"You know," Noah said conversationally, "I've been wondering something."

Pervis paused in the doorway but didn't respond.

"You're really something, aren't you?" Noah said, his voice dripping with contempt. "Still hanging around like a lost dog when it's obvious Anna can't stand the sight of you."

Pervis continued chopping vegetables, his expression unchanged.

"What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?" Noah pressed, stepping closer. "Or maybe you already know the truth—that you're nothing but a convenient blood donor. Anna doesn't need a husband, she needs a walking medical supply."

Still no response from Pervis, which only fueled Noah's anger.

"You disgust me," Noah hissed. "A real man would have some pride. But you? You just keep crawling back, begging for scraps of attention. Pathetic."

He looked at him, and at that moment Noah thought he would react, but instead he turned his gaze back to cooking, in a calm attitude.

Noah's smile faltered at the lack of reaction. "Doesn't that make you angry? Doesn't it hurt to know your wife would rather spend time with another man?"

"Should it?" Pervis asked.

The calm response seemed to infuriate Noah. His cheeks flushed with color as he struggled to sit up straighter.

"You really are pathetic," Noah spat. "No wonder Anna has given up on you."

The sound of Anna's footsteps on the stairs interrupted their exchange. Noah's expression immediately shifted back to one of innocent frailty.

"I should start cooking," Pervis said quietly, heading toward the kitTyler.

Noah watched him go, frustration evident in his tight jaw. As Pervis reached the kitTyler, he heard Noah call out softly:

"Anna's coming downstairs. Want to see something interesting?"

Pervis began pulling ingredients from the refrigerator, his movements methodical and precise. He could hear Anna's heels clicking on the hardwood floors as she approached the kitTyler.

Noah appeared in the doorway, a cunning smile playing at his lips. "You know, Pervis," he said casually, "I think I should prove something to you right now."

"Prove what?" Pervis asked, not looking up from the vegetables he was washing.

"That Anna loves me more than she ever loved you."

Before Pervis could respond, Noah moved swiftly. He grabbed Pervis's hand—the one holding the kitTyler knife—and in one quick motion, deliberately pressed the blade against his own palm.

"Ah!" Noah cried out loudly, jerking his hand away as blood welled up from the shallow cut. "Please don't hurt me! I was wrong!"

The sound of running footsteps filled the hallway as Anna rushed toward the kitTyler, her face pale with alarm.