Chapter 96
Gideon's face instantly went deathly pale. Josephine had recorded everything! In that chaotic moment, she'd still maintained enough composure to collect evidence for their divorce.
Leonard spoke at just the right moment. "Mr. Getty, this recording is sufficient to prove that during your marriage to Ms. Kennedy, you maintained a relationship with another woman that exceeded ordinary friendship, and made promises of marriage. This will be extremely detrimental to your case. If the media gets wind of this, the impact on the Getty Group's stock price and reputation won't be something you can bear alone. My client's desire for an amicable divorce is giving both parties—and the Getty family—a final shred of dignity."
Gideon stood frozen, his temples throbbing. All his resistance and refusal looked pale and pathetic in the face of this ironclad evidence.
Josephine didn't just want to leave him—she was using what mattered most to him, the Getty family's reputation and interests, to force his hand. And supporting her behind the scenes was his sworn enemy—that bastard Cedric.
A crushing pain and fury at being betrayed by both someone he loved and someone close to him swept through him, but deeper still was a despair with nowhere to go.
He was silent for so long that Leonard almost thought he might explode, when he finally raised his head, eyes bloodshot, voice hoarse:
"I need time to handle some things. Seven days. We'll process the paperwork in seven days."
That was the last buffer he could negotiate.
Leonard seemed to have anticipated this. He packed up the flash drive and stood. "Acceptable. Seven days from now, 9 AM, courthouse entrance. I hope Mr. Getty will honor his commitment."
But as Leonard reached the door, he turned back to look at Gideon, his eyes behind the glasses holding a trace of mockery.
"If Mr. Getty thinks these seven days can make Ms. Kennedy change her mind, all I can say is—good luck."
He never underestimated a woman who wanted a divorce, because it meant she'd accumulated enough disappointment and pain.
She wouldn't turn back.
After he left, the office returned to silence, but Gideon felt more hollow than ever.
He slumped in his chair, staring at the divorce agreement on his desk, finding it blindingly harsh.
That evening, some friends who didn't know what was happening invited him out drinking. Gideon hadn't wanted to go, but then Lorelei called. Rather than visit her at the hospital, he'd rather drink.
The moment he walked into the private room, he faced a crowd of teasing congratulations.
"Congrats on being free again."
"Come on, let's toast Mr. Getty. I've always thought that with your value and status, having only one wife your whole life would be such a waste."
Gideon remained indifferent, accepting every drink offered, downing them in one gulp.
Until Tanner Moore threw an arm around his shoulders. "Gideon, you should've divorced ages ago! That Josephine was never good enough for you—can't even give you a child..."
Before Tanner could finish, Gideon's fist connected with his face.
Chaos erupted instantly. Like a cornered, enraged beast, he channeled all his pent-up frustration, pain, and resentment into this brawl.
Tanner actually thought Gideon might kill him, until the others finally pulled them apart. Gideon released him, breathing heavily.
Tanner sat on the floor, face swollen and bruised, blood trickling from his mouth, his words slurred. "Gideon, we've known each other since college—ten years of friendship, and this is how you treat me?"
Gideon said nothing.
Tanner dragged himself up, wiping the blood from his mouth. "Fine. Clearly, you don't need us around. Enjoy your drink."
He limped out. Gideon looked too terrifying—the others didn't dare linger either, making excuses as they left.
Gideon sat alone in the wrecked private room, blood on his face, a purple bruise spreading across his cheekbone, staring at the ceiling with hollow eyes.
In the beginning, he'd worked himself to death, clawed his way up—all to create a better life for Josephine, to gain enough power to shield her from the family's criticism about children.
He'd wanted her carefree. Once he was strong enough, he'd planned to tell everyone that having children was between them as a couple, nobody else's business.
How had things reached this point? How had he become the betrayer everyone condemned, someone even he despised?
He suddenly missed Josephine with unprecedented intensity.
Still bearing his injuries, Gideon drove to the Getty Group Building.
He didn't know why he'd come—perhaps just to see Josephine one more time.
The building blazed with lights. He didn't go inside—no need to think about it to know he wouldn't be welcome. He smoked cigarette after cigarette.
He waited until late into the night, watching Josephine emerge from the building, fatigue from work on her face but clarity in her eyes.
"Jojo." He got out of the car, blocking her path.
Josephine saw him, her gaze pausing on the wound on his face for just a moment, showing no emotion at all—like looking at a stranger. "Mr. Getty. What is it?"
Gideon's heart wrenched painfully. He forced out the words. "Do we... really have to do this?"
"What else would we do?" Josephine countered. "You've seen the agreement. Seven days from now, you sign, and we'll have nothing to do with each other."
"I know you hate me." Gideon tried to find a trace of old affection in her eyes but saw only an indifferent, frozen wasteland. "But Jojo, have you thought about why I wouldn't agree to divorce? Everything I've done, from the very beginning, was to protect you, to give us a future free from outside interference!"
After listening, Josephine suddenly laughed—a sound full of endless mockery. "Gideon, even now, you're still making excuses for yourself? For me?"
She stepped forward, locking eyes with him, each word clear as a blade. "You cheated—for me? You got Lorelei pregnant—for me? Every night you didn't come home, you were wrapped up with her in hotels—for me? You promised to marry her right in front of me—for me? Can you even fool yourself with that line?"
The questions left Gideon speechless, all color draining from his face.
"Don't make yourself sound so noble." Josephine's tone returned to calm, yet it cut deeper than any passionate accusation could. "From start to finish, you've only ever been doing this for yourself."
She'd once imagined that when everything came out, she'd humiliate him, interrogate him, curse him—as if nothing would satisfy her rage.
But when the moment actually arrived, she just felt bored. Utterly uninterested.
She didn't even want to waste breath cursing him anymore.
"You enjoy being needed—whether it's Lorelei's pathetic begging, your mother's expectations for your career, or the old me who revolved around you. You greedily tried to hold onto everything just to feed your own need for control and vanity. When you had me completely dependent, you weren't satisfied anymore. Then you wanted company power, wanted an heir. Now that I'm leaving, suddenly you're playing the devoted lover. Don't you find that incredibly hypocritical?"
Every word was like the sharpest scalpel, laying bare the truth Gideon had been trying to hide. He opened his mouth but found any defense pale and powerless against such naked reality.
Just then, a black sedan silently pulled up to the curb. The window lowered, revealing Cedric's calm profile.
Without another glance at Gideon, Josephine walked straight to the passenger side, opened the door, and got in.
Gideon instinctively moved to stop her, but caught only cold air, helplessly watching the car carry away the most important person in his life, disappearing into the depths of night.
Even after the car vanished completely, Gideon remained frozen in place. Josephine's final words echoed endlessly in his mind.
No.
He loved her—had never stopped—she just misunderstood him. Once the misunderstanding was cleared up, she'd probably come back to him.
Gideon's expression gradually hardened, pain and anguish fading into obsession. He absolutely would not let Cedric steal her away!