Ch. He Sent Me Overseas to Marry Her, I’m Staying Overseas to Never See Him Again 36 He Sent Me Overseas to Marry Her, I’m Staying Overseas to Never See Him Again 36

Chapter 8 

Vivian’s breath caught in her throat. 

No one knew better than she did just how fiercely proud Charles was. 

He had always said, “A man kneels only to his sovereign and his God.” 

Even on their wedding day, Charles had merely bowed. He never once lowering himself to his knees 

But now, she heard him inhale sharply. 

“If I submit… you’ll let them go?” 

Grant Whitmore curled his lips into a smirk. 

“Exactly. Pick one-your ex-wife or your current fiancée. Your untouched Madonna or your eternal 

scarlet letter I want to see-” 

“Diana.” 

Charles cut him off coldly, then dropped to his one knee before Grant without a trace of dignity. 

“Your Majesty, I’m begging you… let Diana go. I’ll take her place.” 

Silence swallowed the room. 

Only Vivian could hear the sound of her heart splintering apart. 

So… Charles loved Diana Schuyler more than she’d ever imagined. 

He loved her so deeply he abandoned all dignity- 

Abandoned every boundary he’d ever held. 

Vivian was his legal wife. Yet when it came to life and death, he never once chose her. 

Grant’s laughter echoed like a slap in the face. 

He walked over and casually untied Diana’s ropes. 

“Get lost.” 

Diana ripped the tape from her mouth, tears streaming down her cheeks. 

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“Charles-” 

“Go!” Charles shouted, his voice thick with emotion. “Go as far as you can. Evan’s still in the 

hospital waiting for you!” 

Grant sneered and slammed his thumb down on a remote. 

The bomb strapped to Vivian’s chest let out a sharp beep-three minutes on the clock. 

He stepped back slowly, mockery thick in his tone. 

“You sure are loyal, Mr. Foster. And you, Mrs. Foster… what a pitiful woman. But don’t waste your breath-you’ll be explaining your grievances in the afterlife. Marrying Charles Foster? That’s just your bad luck!” 

With that, he jumped into a black SUV and sped away. 

Vivian shut her eyes in despair. 

“Go,” she whispered. “Diana and your son are waiting.” 

“I’m not going.” 

To her shock, Charles didn’t leave. 

Instead, he scrambled toward her on hands and knees, his fingers trembling as he frantically worked to disarm the bomb. 

His hair clung messily to his sweat-drenched forehead, lips pale, eyes bloodshot. 

“You’re my wife. We live together, we die together. Leaving you isn’t an option.” 

Vivian froze. 

In that moment, a long-forgotten memory rushed back- 

Years ago, the two of them had watched a romance film together. 

When the female lead died on her hospital bed, Vivian had clutched Charles tearfully. 

“If I die one day, promise me you’ll keep living.” 

He had gently wiped away her tears with the pad of his thumb, his voice unbelievably tender. 

“Don’t talk nonsense. We’re one. If you die, I won’t live, either.” 

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“Don’t worry, crybaby. My wife will live to a long life.” 

Snapped out of the memory, she realized Charles had already disarmed the bomb. 

They ran hand in hand toward an open area. 

But the explosion still came. 

The shockwave slammed them to the ground- 

Charles threw himself over her, shielding her completely, holding her tight beneath him.. 

“Vivian, run!” he shouted hoarsely. “You can’t get hurt… you can’t… 

A single tear slipped down her cheek. 

In that moment, she couldn’t tell- 

Was meeting Charles Foster a blessing, or a curse? 

Outside the emergency room- 

Vivian’s nails dug deep into her palms. Her heart burned as if it were on fire; even drawing a breath 

was agony. 

A hand landed on her shoulder. She turned instinctively- 

Slap! 

Diana Schuyler raised her hand and landed a crisp smack across Vivian’s face. 

“You bitch! If it weren’t for you, Charles wouldn’t have gotten hurt! You cursed wretch-first you killed your parents, now you’re trying to curse the father of my child too?!” 

Vivian clutched her face, stunned into silence. 

But before she could speak, the ER doors opened. 

Charles staggered out, his wounds freshly bandaged, his face pale but eyes full of urgency. 

“Vivian,” he asked breathlessly, “are you alright? Are you hurt?” 

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