My Husband’s Gold Digger Test Cost Him His Wife and Son Chapter 05

My Husband’s Gold Digger Test Cost Him His Wife and Son Chapter 05

I gave a soft, humorless laugh.

Then I blocked and deleted both of their numbers.

After that, I took Noah and got onto the plane, settling into our seats.

In the VIP ward on the top floor of the hospital, Mr. Whitmore had only been acting, but he was old. Even pretending to fall had been enough for the doctors to insist on a full checkup and overnight observation.

After sending the message, he glanced at Ethan, who stood by the window.

Ethan held his phone in his hand, clearly distracted.

“I know you’re angry that I kept the third blood draw from you,” Mr. Whitmore said.

“But I did it for your own good. There are too many gold diggers in this world. Too many women want to

climb into the Whitmore family. I only wanted to help you see clearly.”

“Now I’m sure.”

“Emma really is a good girl. From now on, live properly with her and raise Noah well.”

As soon as he finished speaking, hurried footsteps sounded from the hallway outside the top-floor ward.

The housekeeper came rushing in with a thermos bag, nearly losing her balance as she gasped for breath.

“They’re… they’re gone!”

“Mrs. Whitmore and the young master are both gone!”

Ethan immediately ran downstairs.

Even Mr. Whitmore, who had been so composed a moment ago, changed expression. He quickly had the

housekeeper help him over.

The hospital room was empty.

The only proof that I had ever lain there was the IV needle ripped out onto the mattress and two small red drops staining the stark white sheets.

Both men froze.

“She left before the IV was even finished?”

“This…”

Ethan instinctively took out his phone to contact me.

But all he saw was the glaring “failed to send” notification.

I had deleted him.

He hurriedly took his grandfather’s phone and tried to message me from there.

The same notification appeared.

Only then did Mr. Whitmore start to panic. He quickly leaned in to comfort Ethan.

“Don’t worry. Emma probably found out and got angry.”

“Go find her.”

“Women are like that. Spend some money, coax her a little, and she’ll come around. You’re the billionaire

tycoon in New York. Do you really think she’d bear to leave you?”

His grandfather’s mouth kept moving, but Ethan could not hear a word.

A suffocating dread was wrapping around his throat.

Staring at the two drops of blood on the sheet, Ethan murmured, “Grandpa, if she really doesn’t want money, then money won’t bring her back.”

“And if she did want money, she wouldn’t be Emma.”

Mr. Whitmore did not catch what he said.

Just as he was about to ask, Ethan had already rushed out to look for me.

The first place he went was the delivery depot where I usually worked.

The moment he stepped out of his air-conditioned Bentley, the heat hit him so hard he almost staggered.

He looked around for a while before walking toward the security booth at the entrance.

“Hello. Is this the QuickDrop delivery depot? Does The girl who work here?”

The security guard on duty leaned out the window and looked him up and down.

“What are you to Emma? You looking for her?”

“I’m her husband. We had a huge misunderstanding, and things escalated, so…”

Before Ethan could finish, a half-eaten apple core flew straight out and hit him in the chest, staining his

expensive suit.

The guard stuck his head out and cursed at him.

“Cut the bullshit. Since when does Emma have a husband?”

Ethan grew anxious.

“I really am her husband. I have proof.”

He hurriedly searched through his phone, only to realize there were pitifully few photos that could prove our

relationship.

He had not even saved a picture of our marriage certificate.

After scrolling for a long time, he finally found the photo we had taken outside the courthouse back then, barely enough to prove we had once gotten married.

He forced down the bitterness rising in his chest and handed over the phone.

The guard did not even look at it. He simply opened the gate.

“Having a husband like you is worse than having none. What kind of man lets his young wife work herself half to death at a delivery depot?”

“Sure, the pay here is decent, but this place treats women like men and men like machines.”

“Three years. And now you finally show up looking for your wife?”

“Heartless bastard.”

The old guard spat to the side and pointed casually.

“Go to the sorting floor and find Manager Hughes.”

“I haven’t seen Emma in two days either. Ask him. He might know something.”

After being cursed at like that, Ethan felt a surge of defensive pride.

But when he actually stepped into the massive sorting center, he finally understood.

The life I had lived before had truly been hard.