"Divorce."
Sharon Thompson gazed at the divorce papers on the table. The signature of the man was on it.
She looked toward the window. Through her teary eyes, Freddie Grey's majestic figure stood tall by the French window.
"I've signed. Do it soon," he said with his face up. "I want it all settled before Wanda comes back."
Showered in the afternoon sunlight, he was like a Greek sculpture, aloof, dominating.
Even at this moment, the only thing he left her was such heartlessness.
Freddie didn't glance back, and his hands folded behind. "Because of the prenup, no property division, but I'll give you twenty million plus a villa as compensation."
"You're leaving empty-handed; I can't disappoint my grandfather."
Sharon felt like lightning struck her heart. "Grandpa... Does he know? About our divorce?"
"Does it matter? You are not naive enough to think it will change my mind, aren't you?"
Her fragile frame quivered, barely holding onto the table's edge. tearfully, she asked, "Freddie, can't we... not divorce?"
Finally, Freddie turned back to her. He seemed to be confused, sizing her up and down.
His sharp features, deep eyes, and thin lips still stirred something within her.
"Why?" he asked.
"Because... I still love you."
Sharon's eyes reddened with tears. "I love you, Freddie. I still want to be your wife... even if your feelings for me were gone."
"I've had enough, Sharon. A marriage without love is torture for me."
Freddie waved dismissively, his patience running thin, "Our marriage was a completely mistake. You knew I clashed with my grandfather, and you knew about my feelings for Wanda. But we couldn't be together at that time. "
"Now, three years passed, Wanda's back from London, and I'm marrying her. So, make way for Mrs. Grey."
Sharon hung her head, tears silently cascading on the table, and she shed it away.
Freddie caught it, but he didn't say a word.
At this time, his phone rang, and he answered hurriedly.
"Wanda, are you on the plane?"
Such a gentle tone—was this the same icy man she knew?
"Freddie, I'm already landed, at the Seattle Airport," Wanda Dixon's voice conveyed delight.
"What? Wasn't it supposed to be tonight?"
"I wanted to surprise you, Freddie."
"Wait, Wanda, I'll come pick you up now!"
With that, like a gust of wind, Freddie whisked past Sharon.
The study door closed, leaving behind an air heavy with sorrow.
Ten years of secret admiration, three years of marriage—she'd worked tirelessly for this family, devoted to him. But in the end, it was torment for him.
Now, Freddie, like a released convict, callously abandoned her to marry his beloved Wanda.
It hurt, draining her passion and resolve, yet she couldn't warm his stone-cold heart.
Sharon took a deep breath, shook her head bitterly. Her tears blurred Freddie's elegant name on the paper.
In the evening, Freddie brought Wanda back to Royal View.
The fragile woman was cradled by the heir of the Grey family, entering the villa grandly. They were drawing curious looks from servants.
"Freddie, you haven't divorced yet. Maybe we shouldn't get too close. She might hate me," Wanda spoke softly while fiddling with his collar in his arms.
"She won't."
Freddie replied coldly. "Besides, I don't love her. Our relationship is purely contractual; she has to know her place."
The Grey family members surrounded Wanda with care, while Sharon sat alone in the dining room, setting the table.
Through the crowd, Freddie caught a glimpse of his lonely wife in the dining room and sneered.
At this point, she was still trying to please the Grey family. Did she think that would sway the divorce in her favor?
Ridiculous.
"Mr. Grey! Mr. Grey!"
Soon, the butler rushed in, panting. "Mrs. Grey left!"
"Left? When?!"
"Just now! Mrs. Grey didn't take anything with her, and left through the back door! She was picked up by a black car!"
Freddie hurried back to the bedroom. It was spotless, except for a neatly signed divorce paper left quietly on the bedside, stained with tears.
His brow furrowed as he walked to the window, gazing outside.
A Rolls-Royce raced out of Royal View at incredible speed, soon disappearing, leaving no trace of its taillights.
What now? Was she hesitant to leave in the afternoon? Now she fled faster than a rabbit!
Feeling duped, Freddie grumpily pulled out his phone and called his secretary.
"I've sent you a license plate. Find out who owns that car!"
"Yes, Mr. Grey."
Five minutes later.
"Mr. Grey, that car belongs to the CEO of KS Corporation!"
KS... the heir of the Moore family?!
Sharon, a girl from a small village without money or background, during their three-year marriage, she had no social life at all. And now she somehow managed to land the heir of the Moore family?
Her next man? Quite impressive!
"However, Mr. Grey, did you really mention divorce to Mrs. Grey today?" The secretary cautiously asked.
"Why? Should I wait until New Year's Eve?" Freddie's chest was ablaze with frustration.
"But...but it's Mrs. Grey's birthday today."
The man was suddenly stunned.
......
In the back of the black Rolls-Royce, Benjamin Moore, the eldest son of the Moore family, gently held Sharon's hand.
"Since Max heard you're coming back, he prepared a million-dollar firework to celebrate your return."
"I'm not that into fireworks."
Reverting to her status as a Moore family heiress, she leaned against her brother's shoulder, sighing with teary eyes.
She glanced at the phone; the last message wasn't from her ex-husband but from Wanda.
[I told you before. You stole my position, sooner or later, I'll make you spit it out. Freddie, darling, is mine; stop your delusions!]
A bitter smile twisted her lips, and a final tear brought her to reality.
"Why? At this point, are you still reluctant to let it go?" Benjamin embraced his sister, feeling her pain.
"Benjamin, today is my birthday."
"I know, but Freddie chose today. He's truly a bastard!"
"So, I have nothing to be reluctant about. Sharon Thompson has already been killed by Freddie's own hands."
When she opened her eyes again, Evelyn Moore's resolute gaze showed no trace of lingering affection for that man.
"I've struggled so hard to break free. If I look back now, I deserve to die."