Chapter 402: Divorce by Agreement
Charles nodded. "Mr. Campbell, I appreciate your honesty. I've also come to believe the Rivera family has been pulling strings behind the scenes all along."
Beau studied him. "Charles, let me be frank. Your mother's death—the Riveras had a hand in that too. They wanted to ignite a war between our families so they could profit from the chaos. That's why I asked you here today. It's time we made peace."
Charles drew a deep breath. "Agreed. Let's join forces against the Riveras."
Beau gave a satisfied nod. "The Campbell family's accumulated resources over the years are at your disposal. We can work together."
Charles hesitated, then spoke. "Mr. Campbell, there's something else you need to know. I've… I've been infected with that virus."
Beau's eyes narrowed. "What? How did this happen?"
Charles briefly recounted the recent attack. "The virus has already invaded my system. It's under control for now, but I have four years at most."
Beau was silent for a long moment. "So that's why… that's why you're pushing Emily away."
A bitter smile ghosted across Charles's lips. "Yes. To keep her out of danger, I've decided to divorce her. The Riveras have never stopped their viral research. If they discover Emily is my weakness, they'll stop at nothing to use her against me. I can't let her become collateral damage."
Beau regarded the young man before him, a hint of melancholy flickering in his eyes. "You're willing to sacrifice everything—even your own life—just to give her a clean world to live in. You're worthy of my granddaughter's love."
Charles's gaze hardened with resolve. "She deserves it. I'll work with you to keep every conspiracy hidden from her. Let her live without being tainted by blood and darkness."
Beau nodded. "Agreed. We'll start by dismantling the Riveras' peripheral operations, piece by piece. Remember—Emily must never know."
The two men shook hands, their family feud finally buried.
As Charles left the estate, he looked up at the sky. Some of the weight on his chest had lifted, but his longing for Emily had only grown heavier.
Emily, I'm sorry. But I love you.
Back in the car, Charles's finger hovered over his phone screen for a long time. In the end, he couldn't bring himself to dial her number.
He was afraid that if he heard her voice, he'd break.
Even more terrifying was the thought that Emily might detect the exhaustion and pain in his tone and start digging for answers—and that would put her in danger.
Charles looked up, his voice low and cold. "Nathan."
"Mr. Windsor."
Charles closed his eyes. "The divorce. Expedite it. Today. You know what needs to be done."
Nathan's throat worked. "Yes, sir."
He understood Charles's intentions. He also understood how much this would hurt Emily. But he was only an assistant. He had no choice.
When Nathan found Emily, she was reviewing documents. She heard his footsteps and looked up. The moment she saw the familiar folder in his hands, her fingertips went ice-cold.
Nathan placed the folder on her desk. "Ms. Johnson. This is the divorce agreement Mr. Windsor has prepared. He… hopes you'll sign it as soon as possible."
Emily didn't reach for it. Didn't even glance at the cover. Her voice came out barely above a whisper. "He's not coming himself?"
Nathan hesitated. "Mr. Windsor's schedule is extremely demanding at the moment. He asked me to deliver this on his behalf."
Emily let out a hollow laugh. "Too demanding to spare five minutes to see me face-to-face?"
Nathan kept his voice low. "Ms. Johnson, that's not what he meant."
Emily looked up at him, her eyes rimmed with red, though she fought to keep her composure. "Then what did he mean? Sending you to throw a piece of paper in my face and force me to sign?"
Nathan sighed. "Ms. Johnson, the terms are extremely favorable to you. Property division, equity shares, custody arrangements… Mr. Windsor has made every possible concession. All you need to do is sign, and I'll handle the rest of the proceedings. You won't even have to—"
"I'm not signing." Emily cut him off. "Go back and tell him: I do not consent to this divorce."
Nathan blinked. "Ms. Johnson…"
Emily shoved the folder back toward him. "I said no. If he wants a divorce, he can come tell me himself. Look me in the eye and say it."
Nathan opened his mouth to argue, but Emily had already returned her attention to the documents in front of her, as if pinning herself to the chair through sheer willpower.
She didn't look up again. She wouldn't let the tears fall.
Nathan stood there for a few seconds, then finally picked up the folder. "Understood, Ms. Johnson. I'll relay your response."
The moment the door clicked shut, the office fell into tomblike silence.
Emily stared at the numbers on her computer screen, but couldn't absorb a single word.
She didn't understand.
And she refused to accept it.
That evening, Emily called Elodie. Her voice was hoarse. "Let's get drinks. My treat."
On the other end of the line, music pounded so loudly it was almost painful. Elodie's tone was sharp. "I'm already at a bar. Come over."
Emily grabbed her bag and left.
At the same time, in a VIP booth at the bar.
Elodie threw back half a glass of liquor, irritation radiating from every line of her body.
A circle of friends surrounded her.
A languid playboy named Lloyd Wallace clinked his glass against the table, grinning lazily. "Elodie, you've already announced your engagement to Daniel. Why the long face? Take my advice—marriage is just business. Seal the deal, then do whatever you want. If you're really that miserable, keep someone on the side. Everyone does it."
Elodie shot him a withering look. "Lloyd, what kind of joke do you think marriage is?"
Lloyd shrugged. "A contract. That's how it works in our circles, isn't it? Can true love bring you profit?"
Elodie's knuckles whitened around her glass. Before she could respond, a low male voice cut through the noise.
The newcomer wore a baseball cap and had his mask pulled down to his chin, revealing a strikingly handsome face—Wesley, the A-list movie star.
"Stop corrupting her."
Wesley pushed his cap brim up slightly, his gaze sweeping coolly over Lloyd. "Marriage is a responsibility. If you're not serious about it, don't do it. Quality over convenience. Got it?"
Lloyd faltered, then forced a laugh. "Wesley, you're way too idealistic."
Wesley ignored him and turned to Elodie. "Did your family force you into this engagement?"
Elodie pressed her lips together, her gaze drifting away. "They think Daniel is perfect. Well-bred, respectable, a good match on paper. But I don't love him."
Wesley frowned. "Then refuse."
Elodie let out a bitter laugh. "Easy for you to say."
She lifted her glass as if trying to swallow her grief. "I don't have a choice."
What she didn't say—what she couldn't say—was I love someone who doesn't love me back.
And she definitely didn't say his name: Nathan.
The more she thought about it, the more frustrated she became. She downed another gulp.
Just then, footsteps approached the booth.
Emily pushed open the door and stood silhouetted in the threshold, her face pale but her eyes blazing with stubborn defiance.