Married for seven years, Arthur's scandals never ceased. So, when he heard that I wanted a divorce over a rumor, he raised an eyebrow, surprised and contemptuous: "It's just playing along for the occasion. Is it really worth making a fuss over?" My voice trembled: "And the child? Is that playing along too?" The man froze slightly, then after a long moment, gave a soft laugh: "You saw it?" The pregnancy test report in his pocket was so blatant it stung the eyes. My gaze was stubborn, demanding an explanation. The man stubbed out his cigarette, his tone chilling: "The Sterling family has had only one heir for three generations. It can't end with me. You can't have children, but she can. Is there a problem with that?" 1 The night was heavy, the living room terrifyingly quiet. A servant was head down, sweeping up the shattered porcelain on the floor. My face was pale, my palms clenched so tight they bled. The man caught sight of the pregnancy test report in my hand, lowered his eyes, and casually lit a cigarette, showing no intention of explaining. My voice trembled: "I can't give birth, so you find someone else to do it for me?" He bit the cigarette, his expression brazen: "Isn't this great? You don't have to suffer through pregnancy, and you get to keep your position as Mrs. Sterling." "But two years ago, you clearly said it didn't matter whether we had kids or not!" The man blew a smoke ring: "Our family has had only one heir for three generations. It can't end with me." "After being married for so many years, my mom just wants a grandson. Is there a problem with that?" His self-righteous tone and indifferent attitude challenged my sanity at every turn. How could he have the nerve to spout such high-sounding, bastardly nonsense? A wave of nausea violently surged up my throat. I bent over, dry heaving intensely. He waited for me to recover before looking up, saying airily: "If you're not satisfied, we can divorce. However, according to the prenuptial agreement, your house, your car, your jewelry... even the cemetery plot I paid to move your mother to, I will take back every single piece." "The question is, can you bear to let it all go, Chloe?" My eyelashes fluttered violently, and I clenched my bleeding palms tight. The man's arrogant posture and the disdain seeping from his bones seemed completely unchanged from years ago. I laughed softly, sounding like self-mockery. I asked an incredibly stupid question: "Arthur, do you still love me?" The cigarette at his fingertips burned to the end. He looked up, somewhat impatient: "I gave you the position of Mrs. Sterling. Is that not enough?" During the silent standoff. He answered a call from his assistant, saying the flight to London was about to take off. Before leaving, he left me with one sentence: "Choose for yourself. Walk away with nothing, or continue being the glamorous Mrs. Sterling." My smile was probably a pathetic sight, and tears fell: "Arthur, you really are incredibly stingy." Stingy from beginning to end, never changing. His Adam's apple bobbed lightly, but he said nothing more. After all, back then at the club. He was the most difficult client to serve. A new girl only had to act a little cute, and he'd open bottles of Lafite worth thousands for her. But I stood in front of him holding wine for half the night, and he would only slowly raise his eyes, asking knowingly: "What? You want some too?" Others said he was laid-back and easy to talk to, but I found him malicious and stingy. Not only did he have many demands, but he frequently went back on his word. It wasn't until he tormented me to the point of passing out. That he would snap his fingers, signaling the bartender to open a few bottles of champagne. I should have seen it earlier. He was a man incorrigibly unruly to his very core. It's just that no one expected he would later risk breaking with his family to marry me. 2 Four years ago, late at night when I jumped into the river, it was Arthur who fished me out of the water. The river wind was piercing. I hugged my mother's urn, just wanting to sink. He and his buddies were driving by in a sports car and caught a glimpse of a figure in the water. He hadn't planned on getting involved. Until he unexpectedly saw the white jade bracelet left on the railing—the first gift he gave me when I agreed to be with him. His buddy joked: "Haven't heard from your little mistress in a week, right? Did she see you kissing another girl, get depressed, and jump into the river?" Tires screeched harshly against the pavement. Before his buddy could even finish his sentence, Arthur had already jumped off the bridge. I never thought I would be saved. No gratitude, only numbness. This usually laid-back, relaxed young master was soaked to the bone, furious to the extreme at this moment, scolding me harshly. But water was in my ears; I couldn't hear a word he was saying. I only instinctively tried to break free from him. The result was him pressing me tightly into his chest. "If you fucking dare try to jump again, see what happens!" I closed my eyes, thinking to myself. So unlucky. Didn't die this time. But it's fine, there's always a next time. But the second, third, fourth, fifth, sixth time... I was stopped by Arthur every single time. He was clearly the stingiest person in the club, the one who loved to make things difficult for me the most, yet he repeatedly risked his life to save me. Until the seventh time. Arthur finally realized that I truly didn't want to live. He gritted his teeth and said: "Can't you survive alone? Chloe, can you fucking have some spine!" Choking on water, my eyes red, I broke free from his embrace without a word and walked toward the riverbank without looking back. The man forcefully yanked me back: "Don't forget you still owe me hundreds of thousands! If you die, who am I supposed to collect the debt from?!" "Look at how you've tortured yourself over a dead person!" I finally screamed hysterically: "You don't understand at all! What do you mean 'a dead person'?! That was my mom! My biological mother! The only person in the world who would ever love me!" My voice trembled violently: "You have no idea what my mom meant to me! You only mock her, laughing that she's an unpresentable hostess, laughing that I'm as lowly as her, following in her footsteps, relying on men for money!" "Do you think I enjoy clinging to you? Enjoy looking at your arrogant face?" "I just... just wanted her to live a few more years..." All my obedience was calculated, just to squeeze out a little more money. Arthur's face gradually darkened. That time, he didn't say another word. I wiped the tears from the corners of my eyes and turned to walk toward the river. If nothing unexpected happened, I would die in the coldest winter New York had ever seen. But as I was about to jump, footsteps sounded behind me again. Cold knuckles suddenly wrapped around my waist. The man pressed my head tightly against his chest. His breathing heaved violently, our wet heartbeats pressed together. He rested his chin on my head, speaking slowly and with difficulty: "Then let me love you. Don't die, okay?" "From now on, I will be your closest, closest family. We'll get married. I'll stay with you for the rest of my life. Don't die, Chloe, please?" A lifetime, huh. That really is a very, very long time. I bit down hard on his shoulder. Tears rolled down my cheeks. Why did he have to say such nonsense when I was at my most fragile and helpless? 3 But life is not a fairytale. Moreover, the class divide between him and me was massive. His mother's words were sharp; she absolutely refused to allow me into the family. At that time, the Sterling family had just emerged from the shadow of bankruptcy. If they married an unpresentable woman, they would be laughed to death in their circle. But Arthur didn't care. For the first time, he reined in his cynical, laid-back attitude and declared in front of all the media that he would marry no one but me. Later, the day I wore a million-dollar wedding dress and walked down the aisle, I naively thought that God finally took pity on me. It had stripped away my only familial love, but bestowed upon me a steadfast, unwavering romantic love. To prove myself worthy of the title Mrs. Sterling, I forced myself to learn etiquette, how to advance and retreat gracefully. I even repeatedly practiced the exact angle to lift my skirt hem. But that past in the club was still dug up by the media. They laughed at me for being a clumsy clown, their words full of mockery regarding my background. Even Arthur occasionally took pleasure in tearing off my mask. The dignified, proper evening gown was impatiently torn open. The man watched with amusement as my eyes grew red from holding back, pinching my cheek and saying: "It's fine to pretend with others, but what are you pretending with me for? Like I don't know what you used to be like?" His nature was inherently unruly. So most of the time, he preferred to lean close to my ear, panting, deliberately bringing up my most humiliating past. Hearing my voice tremble, he would slowly trace the curve of my waist: "What, the games we played at the club before, we can't play now that you're Mrs. Sterling?" The reliance a drowning person has on a piece of driftwood is too easily mistaken for love. In the face of the massive class disparity. Only by constantly hypnotizing myself that it was love could I endure those degradations. 4 Late at night, the living room returned to silence. In the early hours, holding my mother's photo, I controlled my trembling hands and wiped it over and over again. I think I regret lying to her. Before she passed, to give her some peace of mind, I lied and said I had a boyfriend. His name is Arthur. He buys me dresses, bags, and necklaces. He would stay up all night with me when I fainted from a fever. I lied and told her Arthur loves me very, very much. My mom truly believed I had found someone good to rely on. The day she left, she was very peaceful. Tears hit the picture frame, falling faster the more I wiped. It wasn't until the blood from my palm blurred that gently smiling face that I finally admitted it to myself. There will never be another person in this world who loves me unreservedly and asks for nothing in return like she did. Never. I had asked Arthur countless times before going to sleep— Do you love me? He would only reply perfunctorily that he loved me, very much, and could I please let him sleep. Later, when he got annoyed with the question, he would say: "We've been married for so many years, isn't this childish? Is love really that important?" Important. Of course, it's important. It was the spiritual pillar keeping me alive. But now, this fake affection had been thoroughly ripped apart by Arthur. He slept with another woman and had a child. A sudden phone ring broke the silence at this moment. It took me a long time to sluggishly realize. It was already broad daylight outside. When the call connected, Mother Sterling's voice was as cold as ever: "You already know about the child, right?" I clenched my palm, the blood now dried. My voice was so hoarse I couldn't speak. She paused, her tone softening slightly: "I heard you and Arthur had a fight. It's fine for a couple to bicker, but that child is the root of the Sterling family. Arthur and I have discussed it, this child must be born." "I know you're unhappy about it, but the Sterling family's rules are laid out here. With such high status, how can we not have a child?" The cold moonlight flowed through the window onto my feet. Listening to her, I felt as if I had returned to the freezing river water. Suddenly, I felt a wave of nausea and dry heaved a few times. But nothing came up. I hadn't touched a bite of the fish last night. When she finished speaking, I spoke numbly: "Since he is the father of the child, he should be by the child's side. Why run back and forth?" Mother Sterling immediately became alert: "What do you mean?" My voice was heavy with fatigue. I squeezed my fingers; the blood had dried, so I couldn't feel the pain anymore. "Nothing. You voluntarily gift me eighty million in your personal capacity. I will divorce him, step aside, go abroad, and never come back." The prenuptial agreement that ensured I would leave with nothing was painstakingly crafted by over a dozen lawyers she had hired. To ensure I couldn't exploit any legal loopholes. Her stinginess and calculation were inherited in the same vein; she and Arthur truly were mother and son. Now that I asked for the money directly, it bypassed the agreement entirely. Mother Sterling sneered: "Chloe, I really wasn't wrong about you." A selfish, greedy, shameless woman. Anyway, that's what she had thought of me from beginning to end. The call ended. I slid down the cold wall and sat on the floor. A continuous dull ache from my lower abdomen made the ominous premonition grow heavier. My period was already nearly twenty days late.
? Continue the story here ?? ? Download the "MotoNovel" app ? search for "394602", and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel