Chapter 165
Richard's gaze froze on the document in Margaret's hands.
A divorce certificate. The text was in some minor European language, but the court seal at the bottom was unmistakable.
The issue date: one year after her "death."
His mind went completely blank. How was this possible? Their marriage had been registered in China—how could it be unilaterally dissolved abroad?
"According to local law," Margaret said, as if reading his thoughts, "when a spouse is missing or presumed dead for a certain period, the other party can unilaterally terminate the marriage."
She paused, watching the color drain from his face before adding in a tone so calm it was cruel: "This certificate is legally recognized in most countries. So, Mr. Neville, from every perspective, what was between us ended long ago."
She had meticulously prepared her escape routes. While he had been living in the delusion that their marriage still bound her to him, she had already severed their last connection with surgical precision.
Richard stared at the flimsy piece of paper, each letter burning into his eyes like a branding iron.
"Richard," Margaret returned the document to the drawer with the efficient movements of someone completing a routine task. "We're even now. After I'm discharged tomorrow, I hope we never see each other again."
The air in the hospital room seemed to vanish.
Richard remained motionless, his gaze fixed on her hand as she closed the drawer.
He had calculated everything so carefully, maneuvered so strategically, even sacrificed his last shred of dignity, believing that as long as their marriage contract existed, she was still tethered to him.
It had all been a joke.
He wanted to ask when she'd done it, why she hadn't told him, if she had been that desperate to cut ties with him. But he couldn't bring himself to speak. The answers were painfully obvious.
Margaret didn't look at him again. She lay down calmly, turning on her side with her back to him.
Richard's gaze traveled from her closed eyes to her slender neck, then to her slightly curved spine.
He suddenly realized he knew nothing about her. He didn't know how she'd spent these three years, how she had "resurrected" herself, or that she had prepared this "parting gift."
He stood there for a long time, until his legs went numb.
Finally, he turned and walked out of the hospital room, each step heavy as if treading on the shattered pieces of his own heart.
The door closed softly behind him, separating their two worlds.
Only after hearing the door close did Margaret slowly open her eyes, staring at the ceiling as she released a long breath.
---
In the days that followed, Richard truly seemed to vanish. The Neville Group's stock fluctuated due to the CEO's unexplained "disappearance," and rumors ran wild.
Only Rex, dark circles under his eyes, frantically dealt with documents and appeased the board. He eventually found Richard in his private penthouse that was off-limits to others.
When Rex used his spare key, the stench of alcohol and decay hit him immediately. The apartment was like a tomb, heavy curtains drawn tight against any light.
Richard lay collapsed on the living room carpet, surrounded by dozens of empty bottles scattered in every direction.
This man was unrecognizable as the cold, decisive Richard of legend.
"Mr. Neville?" Rex called cautiously.
The man on the carpet didn't respond.
Rex sighed and stepped forward to open the curtains. Blinding sunlight instantly flooded in, illuminating dust particles dancing in the air.
Richard stirred, bothered by the light.
"Mr. Neville, you haven't been to the office in three days," Rex reported as he collected the bottles. "If you don't attend the European acquisition video conference, they'll withdraw. And the board is preparing to activate emergency protocols."
Richard finally pushed himself up against the sofa, raising a hand to shield his eyes, his voice hoarse: "Let them withdraw."
Rex's movements froze. This wasn't the workaholic boss he knew.
The Neville Group was the treasure Richard had fought to reclaim from his cousins—how could he abandon it so casually?
"Also," Rex continued reluctantly, "from the Neville Manor... Mrs. Neville has called several times asking what's happened to you."
At the mention of "Mrs. Neville," Richard visibly tensed. He slowly lowered his hand, revealing bloodshot eyes filled with desolation.
He had lost everything. Margaret had delivered the most lethal blow in the most composed manner.
"Get out," he said, looking at Rex.
Rex wisely kept quiet, gathered the trash, and silently withdrew. It seemed only Margaret could save his boss now.
Unfortunately, she was the very cause of his condition.
---
At the Neville Manor, Camila hung up the phone, her face ashen. She had just learned from a trusted director that Richard had been neglecting company affairs for days because of a woman.
And that woman was Margaret—who should have been dead for three years!
"Outrageous!" She slammed her porcelain teacup down, shattering it. The butler nearby dared not make a sound.
Camila's chest heaved with fury. She had always assumed her son's marriage to Margaret was merely strategic.
When Margaret "died," she had secretly felt relieved. She never imagined Margaret would return like a persistent ghost, bewitching her once-proud son!
Just then, her private phone rang with an unknown number.
"Who is this?" she answered impatiently.
"Mrs. Neville, it's Jennifer Barnes." The woman's voice was distorted with rage.
Camila was startled. Hadn't Richard sent Jennifer away?
"I've been released," Jennifer continued, her voice dripping with hatred. "I know you're troubled right now. We share a common enemy, don't we?"
Camila's eyes narrowed.
"That bitch Margaret isn't dead! Richard was going to lock me away forever because of her!" Jennifer's voice turned venomous.
"I won't let this go! I've discovered she faked her death certificate in some European country three years ago and unilaterally dissolved her marriage to Richard. Mrs. Neville, are you willing to let this scheming Margaret destroy the Neville family and Richard?"
Unilaterally dissolved their marriage? Camila's pupils contracted sharply. This information shocked her even more than learning Margaret was alive.
"What do you want?" Her voice turned cold.
"Cooperation," Jennifer pronounced each syllable distinctly. "You have your methods, I have my channels. Rather than waiting passively here, let's take the offensive. I refuse to believe we can't find something in the place she spent three years that would ruin her forever!"
Camila was silent, her fingers unconsciously tracing the cold edge of her phone. After a long moment, she finally spoke, her voice laced with venom, "Send me the address."
She hung up, the last trace of dignity vanishing from her well-preserved face, leaving only malice.
Since her son couldn't be counted on, she would have to clean house herself.
---
After discharge, Margaret didn't return to her apartment but temporarily stayed at a serviced hotel Fiona had arranged.
It had tight security and good privacy, but most importantly, it was close to her newly established investment consulting firm.
The company wasn't large, located in a newly completed office building in the CBD. Her team consisted of elite talents she had gradually recruited abroad during the past three years.
Though she had been "dead" for three years, the world hadn't stopped moving.
There was too much to catch up on; she had no time for melancholy.
That afternoon, Margaret had just finished a multinational video conference when her assistant knocked and entered with an odd expression.