Chapter 14
Calista’s tone made Ophelia frown with displeasure.
“Enough!” Lucien’s icy voice cut them off.
He turned to Ophelia and said, “Go home.”
Her irritated expression softened slightly. “Alright. Take care of yourself and get some rest.”
“Come inside.” This was directed at Calista.
Lucien walked to the front door and used his fingerprint to unlock it, turning on the entrance light. He walked into the main hall and
onto the couch. He then rolled up his sleeves, revealing his strong took off his rain–soaked black suit jacket, tossing it carelessly
forearms.
“Go upstairs, change into dry clothes, then come talk to me.”
“I’m leaving after we talk. There’s no
o point wasting an outfit. I can’t afford it anyway.”
r let her want for clothing or jewelry.
In the past, even though Lucien didn’t love her, he’d never
Her clothes and accessories had all been custom–made from high–end brands. Some weren’t even available to the public and were priceless. Now that they were getting divorced, she had no right to those things anymore.
Lucien’s brow furrowed deeply. He stood in front of her, looking down at her with sharp, intimidating eyes. “Money? Did someone pay you to divorce me?”
His gaze turned dangerous. “Is money all you understand? Wasn’t what I gave you enough?”
When it came to their divorce, Lucien seemed trapped in a dead end. He never looked for reasons within himself for why she wanted to
leave.
In his stubborn mindset, he always believed that whatever he did was right. Everyone else was always wrong.
“Did I guess correctly?” He leaned down and grabbed Calista’s chin, forcing her to look up at him. He hated seeing her like this.
“Lucien, do you love me?” Calista asked.
“What are you trying to say?”
“Doesn’t it bother you to have a wife whom you don’t love around all the time? Or do you think everyone who gets close to you is just after your money?”
Calista stepped back to avoid his hand and spoke to him expressionlessly. “I know that I’ve always been unwanted. I never should have gone back to the Marchand family. Like I said before, I’m divorcing you to make room for you and Ophelia.”
She faintly smiled. “As for the reason, someday you’ll understand. So just assume that I want the divorce because I don’t love you anymore!”
From the first moment she saw Lucien, Calista had always felt deeply inferior. He was pristine and unattainable–the golden boy of Dorcan and heir to the Fenwick family. And what was she? She was nothing but a girl who’d grown up in the countryside, an ignorant
country person.
Even after finding her birth family, she still kept her head down around him and Ophelia. If Rebecca hadn’t brought her back to the Marchands, their paths never would have crossed.
Lucien’s frown deepened, and anger radiated from him.
Calista didn’t expect him to understand any of this. She quickly softened her tone and said, “Lucien, I’m begging you. For the sake of our three years of marriage, please let Anthony go.”
11
“Calista, playing hard to get once was enough. Take back those words, and I can pretend that none of this happened.” His voice was ice -cold, utterly devoid of warmth.
Calista didn’t know if it was his words or the sharp pain in her abdomen, but tears began to shimmer in her eyes. “Lucien, I’m serious this time. I’m not putting on an act. We should have ended this long ago.”
Seeing her tears threatening to fall, Lucien felt an irritating tightness in his chest. He picked up his phone, though he wasn’t sure what he was doing, and made a call.
“Book two tickets to Eldoria for tomorrow.” After giving Galen the instructions, Lucien hung up.
He stared at Calista and asked, “Happy now?”
Even now, he was just trying to appease her. He still thought that she was merely throwing a tantrum.
Calista looked up at the ceiling, but she still couldn’t hold back her tears. A tear hit the floor. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and suddenly laughed.
“The reason I begged you to take me to Eldoria was that our third wedding anniversary was on that day. Did you know?” Her voice
broke.
That day was their anniversary?
Judging from Lucien’s blank expression, Calista already knew the answer. He didn’t even remember when they’d gotten married.
For a rare moment, Lucien showed a flicker of guilt in his eyes, though to Calista it looked like pity. He snapped, “Calista, I’m busy! If this is about that, I can make it up to you.”
Calista swatted away his outstretched hand, tears now streaming down her face. “Not everything can be fixed after the damage is done.
”
Calista’s breathing suddenly became labored, and sharp cramps shot through her abdomen. Her body swayed unsteadily, barely able to stay upright.
Lucien noticed something was wrong. Just as he reached out to steady her, Calista’s body went limp and she collapsed into his arms.
“Calista!”
When Lucien touched her, he realized that she was completely soaked and burning up. She had a fever.
Lucien carried her upstairs in quick strides, taking her to the master bedroom. He started to change her clothes but discovered that the walk–in closet, which used to be full of Calista’s clothing, was now entirely empty of her belongings.
It was filled solely with Lucien’s uniform collection of black shirts and suits.
Lucien’s brow furrowed deeply. Who had cleared out all her clothes without his permission?
