“Right when we’re at the finish line, you’ve suddenly realized I’m not a bad wife, and now you’re reluctant to let me go?” Lucille’s voice dripped with sarcasm as she tried to provoke him.
She knew Flint wasn’t the kind of man easily swayed by such tactics, but he was also extremely arrogant and dignified. This was a typical flaw among men born to wealthy families.
Would Flint hold back after I provoked him like this, especially in front of so many of his employees?
The answer was absolutely not.
As expected, Lucille’s words darkened his already stormy expression, making him look much more upset.
Flint stepped forward, closing the distance between them.
Seeing him approach, Lucille didn’t wait around. She simply turned on her heel and headed straight for the parking lot.
However, when she opened the car door, a firm hand gripped it.
She lifted her eyes and met his cold scrutinizing gaze.
“Do you still have something to say?” she questioned with a raised eyebrow, and a smile playing on her lips.
“What kind of trick are you playing?” he asked in a calm voice.
Flint’s voice was deep, magnetic, laced with the natural authority of someone used to being in charge.
She used to love listening to him speak before. Every word he uttered felt like a musical note, pulling her in.
Unfortunately, Flint had always been stingy with his words, especially with her. He only spoke when necessary, and when he did, he was as brief as possible.
If one word would suffice, he’d never waste two.
“I’m willing to buy the 5% shares Grandpa gave you at the current market value of Ashworth Corporation’s stock. You don’t need to gift them to me.”
Flint spoke while looking at Lucille’s calm and composed expression, trying to find the slightest trace of insincerity on her face.
Perhaps she was concealing it too well or had given up on this marriage. However, there wasn’t the slightest flicker of emotion in her eyes or on her face when he stated that to her.
Suppressing his irritation, Flint added, “Since we’re divorcing, I won’t shortchange you. You’ll get whatever you’re entitled to. So don’t pretend to be generous in front of me.”
Lucille was directly annoyed by Flint’s self–righteous thoughts.
“Flint, I’ve already signed the divorce papers. I was at the civil affairs office, ready to finalize things with you. If you hadn’t bailed on me, we’d already be divorced. Do you think I’m pretending to be generous? And for whose benefit? Yours?”
Her gaze locked onto his dark, brooding eyes, and she smiled as she continued, “I spent a whole year by your side, and I couldn’t persuade you to change your decision. Do you think I can sway you by acting generous now? Or is it because you have so little faith in yourself?”
Flint was momentarily at a loss for words. Her question hit him squarely, leaving him unable to refute.
It was true. He had made up his mind to divorce her. Lucille could give up everything she owned, and it still wouldn’t change his decision.
So
is she serious about this divorce? She’s even more eager than me.
She’d been waiting at the civil affairs office first thing in the morning.
