Chapter 48 Let's Get Divorced
Sloane's POV
The arrogant expression on the face of that high-and-mighty man in the car cracked slightly at my unexpected words.
He looked at me with scrutiny, as if reassessing my worth.
After a long moment, Aeneas let out a cold laugh, his smile carrying both undisguised approval and contempt. "You're smart."
He leaned back into the leather seat, relaxing as he prepared to watch the show. "Much more sensible than I expected."
He gestured for the driver to take out an envelope from the glove compartment and handed it to me, his tone patronizing. "This is compensation for you. Enough to keep you comfortable for the rest of your life. Take the money and leave quietly. It's the most dignified ending for both you and us."
He looked me over again with that appraising gaze, his eyes full of criticism. "You may have a pretty face, but you weren't raised in elite circles after all. You lack the grace of a high-society lady. But knowing when to cut your losses is at least one good quality."
Every sentence praised me on the surface while destroying my dignity completely.
"Mr. Montclair," I didn't reach for the envelope, "my worth doesn't need to be defined by a check. At least I don't treat marriage as a transaction with a price tag."
The smile vanished from Aeneas's face instantly.
He'd probably never been challenged like this by someone he considered beneath him. His expression darkened immediately, and those eyes so similar to Jared's finally showed undisguised anger and disgust.
"Sharp-tongued!" He snorted coldly. "Who do you think you are? You'll never compare to Keira! She knows how to bring maximum benefit to the family, while you've been nothing but trouble from start to finish!"
I didn't want to waste another word on him. I turned and walked away.
The black car lingered behind me for a moment before finally roaring away into the distance.
Aeneas's words stabbed into my heart—not deep, but densely packed and painful.
I forced myself to straighten my back, walking step by step through the cold wind, not letting the stinging in my eyes surface.
When I returned to the villa, the living room was dark. I'd just pressed the light switch in the entryway when a tall figure wrapped in anger rose from the sofa.
"Why didn't you call me?" Jared rushed over and grabbed my arm without a word, his grip frighteningly tight. "Didn't I say I'd pick you up?"
His voice was full of suppressed fury and a barely detectable anxiety.
I looked up to meet his dark gaze, feeling utterly exhausted.
He seemed to notice something was wrong. Those black eyes scanned my pale face for a moment, and his tense jawline softened slightly.
The anger in his eyes faded, replaced by something more complex. "What's wrong?" He softened his tone and reached up to brush away my wind-tousled hair.
Without waiting for my answer, he pulled me into his arms, holding me tightly. It was an embrace filled with strong possessiveness and comfort. Through the thin fabric, I could feel his steady, powerful heartbeat from his warm chest.
He said in a low, somewhat hoarse voice near my ear, "Trust me, I'll handle it."
Handle it? Like how he handled things with silence in the study at the party?
I leaned against him without moving or responding.
My body's stiffness and coldness clearly conveyed my resistance. When he thought the embrace was working and tried to deepen the kiss, I finally spoke.
"Jared," My voice was calm and steady, cutting through his false tenderness. "Let's get divorced."
His body went rigid.
The arms holding me tightened instantly, almost breaking my bones.
He pushed me away and gripped my shoulders tightly, looking at me in disbelief, a storm gathering wildly in his eyes.
"Say that again?" His voice was cold as ice, each word seeming to squeeze through clenched teeth.
"I said, let's get divorced." I repeated, meeting his eyes that were about to lose control, without backing down an inch.
"I won't agree!" He roared, those deep eyes instantly bloodshot. "Sloane, don't even think about it!"
Like a completely enraged beast, his hands gripping my shoulders kept tightening, the force making me furrow my brow in pain.
"Have you forgotten what we agreed?" He stared at me intently, as if trying to see through me. "Give me a child! You promised me!"
A child again.
I looked at his face, somewhat distorted by anger. "And then what, Jared? What exactly are you thinking?"
I stepped forward, looking directly into his bloodshot eyes, asking word by word, "Do you want a child between you and me, or do you want an heir who can shut everyone up? A tool that lets you inherit everything from the Montclair family with a clear conscience?"
My words precisely cut through all his fake pretenses.
He was left speechless by my question. The anger on his face faded. He opened his mouth, his Adam's apple bobbing, but couldn't say a word.
"Sloane, it's not what you think..." He finally squeezed out a pale, weak defense and tried to take my hand.
I stepped back, avoiding his touch. "I don't want to hear it."
I coldly cut him off. I was tired of his explanations and lies that could never be made clear.
Seeing that explanations were useless, the panic in his eyes intensified. Finally, like grasping at a last straw, he brought out his usual excuse.
"What about Grandma?" He stared at me, his tone urgent. "What are you going to tell her? She likes you so much, and her health isn't good. Can you really bear to upset her with this?"
I looked at him, at the undisguised manipulation in his eyes, feeling waves of bitterness in my heart.
"This is between us." I met his gaze, my eyes showing unprecedented firmness and coldness. "As for Grandma, I'll explain to her myself. No need for you to worry."
My words completely crushed his taut nerves.
"Did he find you?" Jared's voice was terribly hoarse. He'd finally caught the key point. "My father—what did he say to you?"
I didn't answer, just looked at him silently.
This silent admission was more powerful than any fierce accusation.
The next second, he released me, turned around, and pulled out his phone from his pocket, dialing the number almost immediately.
As soon as the call connected, the anger he'd suppressed all evening erupted like a volcano.
"What did you say to her?" He roared into the phone, abandoning even the last trace of respect for his father. "I warned you not to touch her!"
Whatever was said on the other end, Jared's expression grew darker, the hostility around him almost becoming tangible. "You want Keira as your daughter-in-law? Let me tell you, as long as I, Jared, am the Montclair heir for even one day, my wife can only be Sloane! You'd better put away all your dirty schemes!"