Chapter 40 Severing Ties
Sloane's POV
My heart lurched, and almost instinctively, my left hand moved to protect my lower abdomen.
I forced out a strained smile and made an excuse, "Too much has happened recently, and my body hasn't fully recovered yet. This matter... I want to wait a bit longer."
Annette nodded knowingly and didn't press further. She reached out to straighten my disheveled collar, her tone leaving no room for refusal. "Come on, let's not waste time here."
"Where are we going?" I asked, confused.
She glanced at me, her eyes carrying that natural authority of someone in power. "Where the lady of the Montclair household should go. Your taste and judgment are excellent, but your appearance needs matching adornment."
Without waiting for my response, she took my hand and led me out of the store, tossing my selected gifts to the bodyguard following behind.
"Remember," she said as we got into a Rolls-Royce. The moment the car door closed, she looked at me and said deliberately, word by word, "Jared's money is your money. Letting him spoil you isn't just your right—it's your worth. Don't you dare hold back or try to pinch pennies for him. If a man won't open his wallet for you, his love isn't worth the paper it's written on."
I sat on the soft leather seat, watching the scenery fly past the window and the powerful woman beside me. For the first time, I felt uncertain about my future.
This unexpectedly strong ally seemed to be pushing me toward a path completely different from what I had planned.
The moment Annette finished speaking, a black Aston Martin screeched to a stop beside the Rolls-Royce with a sharp drift. The car door flew open, and Jared jumped out. He didn't even bother closing the door before rushing over to us.
His face was dark, his whole body radiating terrifying hostility. I instinctively thought he'd come to confront me about Keira. But his gaze only swept over me briefly, and after confirming I was unharmed, it landed directly on Annette.
"Who gave you permission to touch her?" He yanked me away from Annette and pulled me behind him protectively, like a beast guarding its food, staring warily at his own mother. Even his voice carried an icy warning.
This sudden turn of events stunned everyone, including Annette.
I was completely baffled by his protective gesture and instinctively tugged at his sleeve, explaining quietly, "Jared, you've got it wrong. Mother was helping me just now."
"Helping you?" Jared laughed coldly, his laughter full of mockery and disbelief. He looked at Annette with eyes sharp as knives. "She would be that kind?"
The elegant composure on Annette's face finally showed a crack. Watching her son regard her with complete distrust, a flash of hurt crossed her eyes.
She didn't get angry, just sighed softly, her tone carrying exhaustion and disappointment. "Jared, is this what you think of me? Someone who would scheme against her own daughter-in-law?"
She looked at me deeply, her expression complex and hard to read, finally turning into a soft sigh. "Fine. Since you don't trust me, there's no point in saying more."
With that, she stopped looking at Jared and simply nodded at me before turning and gracefully getting back into the car.
The door that shut out everything closed slowly, like the curtain falling on a grand drama.
On the way back, the atmosphere in the car was suffocatingly tense. Jared said nothing, just drove at breakneck speed, the scenery outside the window turning into streaks of light.
"What exactly did she say to you?" He finally broke the silence, his voice sharp and clipped—the tone of a detective grilling a suspect.
I looked at his tense profile and recounted everything that happened in the store—how Keira provoked me, how Annette intervened—word for word.
After listening, he just let out a disdainful snort from his throat. "You'd better stay away from her," he said, eyes on the road ahead, his tone certain. "She's not as simple as you think. Helping you today was just to make you owe her, so you'll obediently do what she says."
So in his eyes, even his birth mother's kindness was just a carefully calculated transaction.
This man's suspicion had reached a pathological level.
I didn't bother arguing with him anymore and simply changed the subject, my voice cold. "Keira came to bother me again today. She said you gave her lots of things as compensation for her injury."
I was just stating facts, but to his ears, it sounded like questioning and jealousy.
He slammed on the brakes, and the car screeched to a halt by the roadside.
He turned his head, his dark eyes staring at me intently. "So you used that card to provoke her?"
"I didn't."
"Sloane," he suddenly sighed, his tone carrying irritation and helplessness, "Keira's emotions have been unstable. She... she tried to kill herself for me before. I admit my mother went too far today, but in the future, can you please stop provoking her?"
Pain shot through my chest, tight and suffocating.
She tried to kill herself for him.
What a casual explanation, shifting all the blame onto me.
He wasn't asking—he was ordering me to back down and endure for the sake of his beloved's emotional stability.
I looked at him and suddenly laughed, though the smile didn't reach my eyes, cold as ice. "Jared, I hate her." I said clearly, word by word. "And I won't tolerate her for your sake."
He frowned, seemingly displeased by my lack of understanding. "Between husband and wife, there should be mutual compromise."
Mutual compromise.
I compromise with his suspicion, his violence, his repeated favoritism toward Keira over me. And he only needs to compromise with my existence.
How fair.
I pulled at the corner of my mouth in a bitter smile and turned my head away, no longer looking at him.
That heart that had just warmed slightly from Annette's defense sank completely to the bottom of an icy lake.
Back at the villa, Isabelle's call came through.
I hung up without thinking.
Moments later, the villa's doorbell rang frantically, as if determined to break it.
I walked to the entrance and glanced at the video intercom screen. Isabelle's face, twisted with anger, was pressed against the camera.
"Sloane! You little bitch, open this door!" Her voice was shrill and harsh, coming through the speaker with a distorted screech. "You think having the Montclair family backing you means you can do whatever you want? How dare you let your mother-in-law hit Keira! How can you be so vicious! Get out here!"
I stared expressionlessly at her ranting on the screen, unable to feel even a ripple of emotion. I reached out and turned off the intercom.
The cursing outside continued, mixed with frantic pounding on the door.
"Open this door! Do you hear me! If you don't open it, I'll disown you as my daughter!"
"Fine then! Your wings have grown strong, haven't they! Sloane, I'm telling you, from today on, I'm cutting ties with you! Whether you live or die from now on has nothing to do with me!"
The noise outside gradually faded, finally leaving only dead silence.
I turned and walked up the stairs, step by step.
Cut ties?
Fine.
I haven't had a family for a long time anyway.