Chapter 50 Very Well Done
Sloane's POV
Aeneas raised an eyebrow, seemingly amused and surprised by my audacious move.
I ignored everyone's reactions and walked straight toward the study.
As I passed Jared, he suddenly grabbed my wrist, his grip so tight it felt like he was trying to crush my bones.
"Sloane," his eyes were bloodshot, his voice hoarse with pleading, "don't go. Give me a little more time. Let's think this over, okay?"
I stopped and looked down at his hand gripping mine.
That hand still bore traces of the bandages I'd wrapped for him last night, but now it felt like a heavy shackle.
I said nothing. I simply raised my other hand and, one by one, pried open each finger that imprisoned me.
When I pushed away the last finger, I could clearly feel his body stiffen and the light in his eyes instantly extinguish.
In the study, Aeneas sat leisurely in the main seat on the sofa, examining me with scrutinizing eyes, as if waiting for me to beg for mercy.
I took out a document from my bag and gently placed it on the coffee table in front of him.
"This is the divorce agreement," I said calmly. "I want nothing. I'll leave with nothing."
The arrogance and scrutiny on Aeneas's face finally showed a crack.
He picked up the agreement and flipped through it quickly. When he saw that the property division section was indeed blank, the contempt in his eyes finally faded.
"You're much smarter than I thought." He leaned back in his chair, his face finally showing some warmth. "This is better for you and for all of us."
"I have only one condition," I looked at him, meeting those calculating eyes. "I hope you can get Jared to sign it as soon as possible."
He smiled, his expression full of confident control. "Don't worry, that's exactly what I want to do."
I had just walked out of the study and hadn't even caught my breath when my phone vibrated in my pocket.
I walked to a quiet corner and answered the call.
Isabelle's voice immediately came through, barely containing her excitement, almost praising me. "Sloane, you did great! I told you that place wasn't right for you. Taking the money and leaving early is the smartest choice. You finally listened to me for once!"
I listened to her excited chatter. When I stayed silent, Isabelle finally hung up.
Did great.
I repeated those words in my head. So to my own mother, my destroyed marriage—this nightmare that nearly killed me—was just "great."
Good that I cut my losses in time. Good that I listened to her advice. Good that I could finally be packaged up like a qualified product and sent back to where she needed me.
Isabelle urged me on the phone to move back home immediately, not to look too pathetic, and especially not to try any tricks to seduce Jared.
I agreed to everything, my voice as calm as if I were reciting a report that had nothing to do with me.
Putting away my phone, I took a deep breath, turned around, and walked back to the tense living room.
Grandma, Annette, and Jared were all sitting on the sofa—three people, three completely different expressions, all waiting for me.
I walked straight to Grandma and slowly knelt down, pressing my cheek against her wrinkled hand, just like I used to nestle against Director Aria when I was little.
"Grandma, I have to go," I said softly, trying to keep my voice from shaking. "Please take care of yourself, take your medicine on time, and don't get angry anymore."
Grandma's tears immediately poured out. She pulled me tightly into her arms, her scalding tears soaking my shoulder, choking so hard she couldn't speak.
After a long moment, she finally released me. Her red-rimmed eyes turned to Jared, who stood there in silence. All her anger and pain exploded in that instant.
She struggled to stand up and raised her hand to hit Jared. "You bastard! Look what you've done to Sloane! I told you to treat her well—is this how you treat her? I'll beat you to death, you heartless thing!"
Her blows didn't have much strength, but they felt like thousand-pound stones, hitting Jared again and again, and hitting my heart too.
He stood there without moving, letting Grandma vent, but those bloodshot eyes looked past Grandma's shoulder, locked on me without blinking.
He finally spoke, his voice hoarse as if scraped by sandpaper. "Give me a reason, Sloane. Why does it have to come to this?"
I met his gaze. There was pain I didn't understand, anger I could see, and a trace of almost begging humility.
But I didn't want to explore it anymore.
I just looked at him silently, like looking at a stranger.
My silence was the last straw that broke him.
He pulled away Grandma, who was still hitting him, turned around, and rushed out of the old house without looking back.
"That wretch!" Grandma trembled with anger, looking like she was about to faint.
Annette and I quickly supported her from both sides. "Grandma, don't be angry. He's not worth it."
Grandma grabbed my hand, crying like a child. "Good girl, Grandma has wronged you. The Montclair family has wronged you..."
She held onto me, refusing to let go. "Don't leave, Sloane. Stay for lunch, just keep Grandma company for one last meal, okay?"
Looking at her sorrowful eyes, my heart felt like it was being cut by knives, but I could only cruelly shake my head.
I was afraid that if I stayed even one more second, the dam I'd worked so hard to build would completely collapse.
In the end, it was Annette who persuaded Grandma.
She walked me to the door. The late autumn wind carried a chill, lifting her hair.
"I'm sorry, Sloane." She looked at me, genuine apology in her eyes. "As Jared's mother, I failed to raise him properly. As your mother-in-law, I failed to protect you."
She took out a card from her bag and pressed it into my palm. "There's some money in here. Not much, just consider it a small compensation from our family."
I instinctively tried to refuse. "Mother, I can't..."
"Take it." But Annette wouldn't take no for an answer, closing my hand around it. Her hand was warm, but her tone carried an undeniable firmness. "This isn't charity. It's what we owe you. What you've given to this family is far more than this."
She paused, looking at my pale face, and sighed softly. "From now on, don't wrong yourself like this anymore. You're a good girl. You deserve someone better."
I held the thin card. It felt like a red-hot branding iron, burning my fingertips numb. I didn't refuse again, just nodded and turned to walk down the steps.
I stood by the roadside and called a car on my phone.
While waiting, I kept feeling like there was a gaze behind me, following me like a shadow, carrying an indescribable coldness and scrutiny.
I whipped around. Behind me was empty, only the wind rolling up fallen leaves in desolate spirals.
Was it my imagination?
I smiled self-mockingly. I'd probably been driven to paranoia by all this oppression.
A taxi stopped in front of me. I opened the door and was about to get in.
At that moment, the harsh sound of brakes tore through the air. A black Aston Martin swerved sharply, positioning itself precisely between me and the taxi, completely blocking my way.
The car door was forcefully pushed open from inside. Jared got out, his handsome face no longer showing any of its usual calm composure, only a near-mad obsession and violence.