Chapter 8
Calista fought to control her anger. She snapped, “Lucien! Did you do all those things to Anthony? We have nothing to do with each other anymore. What more do
you
want?”
“If you have something to say, come back to Dorcan and say it to my face.” With that cold response, Lucien hung up.
The business industry often described Lucien as ruthless and decisive, someone no one dared to cross. Calista had thought it was all just rumors, but now, she was seeing it firsthand.
The cab ride to Dorcan took only a few hours. By the time she arrived, the sky had turned dark.
There was no moon, just pitch blackness with heavy clouds covering the night sky. The wind carried a damp chill. It looked like there would be heavy rain that night.
Calista arrived at Riverview Medical Center and wasn’t surprised to see Galen waiting for her. He walked ahead, leading her to the
elevator for the upper floors.
“Mrs. Fenwick, why make things difficult for yourself? Being a kept woman isn’t so bad.”
However, Calista said nothing. Her expression remained cold as she stepped into the elevator, though his dismissive words still stung.
They went up to the VIP ward on the 23rd floor. Galen knocked on the door. “Sir, Mrs. Fenwick is here.”
Lucien’s voice was ice–cold as he curtly said, “Wait.”
The door was ajar, and Calista wasn’t blind. She could see Ophelia helping Lucien change his shirt. The man stood shirtless, his toned torso entirely on display, completely unbothered by it.
The scene cut deep, piercing her eyes with pain. After three years of marriage, even she–an outsider could see how perfectly matched they were.
When Galen turned around, Calista had already walked away. She was supposed to be the one legally bound to the man inside, yet here she stood like a stranger who could never belong to their world.
The weather in Dorcan was different from Brego. It was much colder, especially at night when the wind could cut through a person. Calista had rushed back wearing only a thin, cream–colored cardigan.
Just then, Anthony called, but she didn’t answer. After the call went to voicemail, she texted him back, saying that she had something to handle and wouldn’t be coming home.
If she answered his call, she knew that he’d hear right through her lies. She was terrible at deception, and she couldn’t let Anthony know that she’d returned to Dorcan. He’d only worry about her.
Standing outside in the cold, Calista hugged herself and rubbed her arms. She had no idea how long they’d be in there. After some time, Galen came out and called her inside.
H
Ophelia stood by the bed, rinsing the towel she’d used to wipe Lucien down. “If you need anything, just let me know.”
Lucien was wearing a fresh hospital gown. He was obsessively clean. His pajamas had to be new every day, and he never used anything twice.
His voice was cold and commanding as he said, “Both of you, get out.”
Ophelia walked out carrying the water basin, not even glancing in Calista’s direction. She wore heels that made her the same height as Calista, but she held herself as if she were superior.
If this had been the old Calista, she never would have let another woman touch Lucien’s body. But now, even watching Lucien undress in front of Ophelia left her feeling strangely calm.
It was easy for her not to care anymore once she’d given up. The door closed behind them, and the sudden quiet left Calista feeling awkward and out of place.
“Come here.”
“Did you do those things to Anthony?”
They both spoke at the same time.
For a moment, the tense silence was shattered. In the past, she would have been the one to back down. Instead of obeying his command, Calista pulled up a chair and sat beside his bed.
”
She was wearing her old clothes again. It was a blue dress with embroidered gardenias made from the cheapest fabric, paired with a cream cardigan that was already pilling. The entire outfit cost less than 100 dollars.
What she wore wasn’t worth as much as one pair of Lucien’s socks. After all, he came from wealth and privilege. Everything he owned was custom–made, each piece worth more than her entire wardrobe.
This was the gap between them. It was an unbridgeable chasm.
Calista’s hands gripped the hem of her dress tightly before she looked up into his dark, unreadable eyes and spoke first. “What do you want? What will it take for you to leave my brother alone?”
Lucien looked at her with the same cold indifference as always. It held no warmth or recognition of their marriage.
His voice carried a hint of suppressed anger. “So now you’re trying to negotiate with me.”
“I’m here to resolve my brother’s situation. I don’t want to fight with you.”
Calista knew that she wouldn’t get anywhere and might only make things worse for Anthony’s family.
“The premise of resolving anything is having terms to negotiate. Didn’t the Fenwick family provide everything the Cannons have? What exactly do you think you can offer me?
“Make it clear, and I migh
give you this chance.” His dark eyes locked onto her, intense and unrelenting, like whirlpools pulling her in.
He spoke like a businessman, as if the person in front of him wasn’t his wife but a longtime business partner. Calista fell silent.
She looked down at her fingertips, which had turned white from gripping her dress so tightly. Her heart ached along with them.
In front of him, she was still so powerless. She avoided his gaze.
Seeing her like this, Lucien’s eyes narrowed dangerously, turning ice–cold. “Or you could tell me what you did wrong, and I might consider going easy on your brother.”
Calista looked like a disobedient student being scolded by their teacher. She didn’t dare lift her head to look at him. Whether it was the low air conditioning or something else, a chill crept over her, leaving her trembling.
After a long while, Calista finally found her voice, though her eyes had grown hot with unshed tears. She felt nothing but sorry for herself.
Three years of marriage, three wedding anniversaries–he’d spent every single one of them with Ophelia.
Even her anniversary gifts came from Galen. She had received potted plants and flowers that served no purpose except to bloom and look pretty around the house.
She lifted her head and smiled. However, her smile looked anything but happy.
“Lucien, what makes you think I’m the one who did something wrong? What gives you the right to assume that?”
Calista fought to keep her emotions from completely breaking down, her voice thick and nasal, as if she were on the verge of tears. There were some things she didn’t want to discuss with him anymore.
She stood up and said, “If you think divorcing you was my mistake, then fine, it’s my mistake. Think whatever you want.”
Calista turned to leave, but her steps faltered as she faced away from him. “Actually, they’re right. We really aren’t suited for each other, and I’m not good enough for you.
“We never should have gotten married three years ago.‘
