Chapter 206
George didn't answer my accusation right away.
He just lifted his eyelids and gave me a cold glance.
"It's all written in the agreement."
His attitude made the anger in my chest flare up again.
But before I could speak again, Terry started barking.
"George, why are you even bothering to talk to her?" He cut in impatiently. "She's just greedy and money-hungry. When she was Mrs. Smith, she put on this act of being gentle and virtuous. We never saw her being this shameless, demanding this and that, did we?"
He sneered, as if he'd seen through everything, and continued, "Actually, no—she's always been this shameless. Otherwise, she wouldn't have been so good at playing the desperate puppy dog back then."
"If Sarah hadn't left, it wouldn't have been her turn to use those dirty tricks to trap you and climb into the position of Mrs. Smith."
In the minds of many people in Terry's circle, my marriage to George was something I'd schemed and tricked my way into.
I came from an ordinary background, had average abilities, and aside from a decent-looking face and a foolish devotion, I had nothing going for me.
My marriage into the Smith family was pure dumb luck.
So when George proposed divorce and generously offered substantial compensation, the fact that I dared to question it and ask about the children—in Terry's eyes, this was pure greed.
The way he looked at me was full of undisguised contempt and disgust, as if looking at me one more time would dirty his eyes.
But did I need his approval?
What was he anyway?
Just a barking dog at George's side!
I didn't even bother to spare him another glance, locking my eyes back on George's face.
"George, I'm asking you about the children. Don't play dumb, the agreement doesn't mention them at all."
"I'll say it one more time: I only want Milly. Everything else—the house, the car, the money—I don't want any of it."
"Jack, you can give him to Sarah to raise. That's between you two, and I won't interfere. But—" I paused, each word seeming to squeeze out from my chest with the force of burning bridges, "don't even think about touching my Milly. Not even a finger."
I laid my bottom line out clearly on the table.
I was no longer the Grace who would endlessly compromise and hold back just to maintain surface peace.
For Milly's sake, I was willing to break ties, willing to risk everything.
Today, I had to get a clear answer.
I thought George would fly into a rage, mock me coldly, use his power and his lawyer's expertise to make things difficult for me.
Or have his dog Terry keep barking to pressure me.
But to my surprise, after hearing my almost defiant declaration, George's face showed barely any reaction.
He didn't even look at me, just turned his head slightly toward Clifford beside him and said coldly, "Add it."
"Custody of Milly goes to Grace, custody of Jack goes with Sarah. Visitation rights according to legal standards."
His pace wasn't fast, even somewhat slow, but every word was clear and final.
Clifford seemed a bit surprised too, but his professional training made him quickly collect himself, promptly taking out his pen and scribbling additional clauses into the draft agreement.
I was stunned.
He just agreed? Just like that?
No argument, no difficulties, not even a single question.
The tight string in my heart suddenly loosened because of this unexpected agreement.
What followed, though, was an even deeper confusion and an almost unbelievable sense of relief.
He really just gave me custody of Milly?
Wait.
I quickly came to my senses.
George agreed so readily not because he had any feelings for me or Milly.
His cold expression throughout made it clear—he was just handling a troublesome matter.
Like dealing with an unsatisfactory contract, an annoying project.
And Milly and I just happened to be the parts of this contract he cared least about, the parts he most wanted to cut loose as quickly as possible.
That was fine.
I'd rather he had no feelings for me, no attachment.
That way, the separation would be cleaner and more complete.
I didn't need his fake guilt or compensation. I just needed him to let go and give Milly back to me.
Watching Clifford hand me the new page with the added custody clause, I took a deep breath, pushed down my complicated emotions, and reached out to take the pen, ready to sign my name in the designated spot.
Once I signed this name, George and I would truly go our separate ways.
And Milly could finally be completely free of that family.
However, as my eyes casually scanned the next page of the newly opened agreement, my movement suddenly froze.
My pupils contracted sharply, and my breathing stopped in that instant.
The next page wasn't some property list or legal jargon, but several lines of bold black text with the heading: Supplementary Confidentiality and Restrictive Clauses.
I forced myself to calm down and read through it word by word.
[Article 1: Both parties agree that from the effective date of this agreement, the female party shall not, in any form (including but not limited to public statements, social media, private conversations, etc.), claim or imply to others the fact of her previous marriage to George or their current divorce.]
[Article 2: The female party shall not in any way slander, defame, or damage Sarah's reputation, nor shall she mention to others Sarah's private relationship with George.]
[Article 3: The female party must publicly acknowledge that Jack is her biological son born during her marriage to George, and shall not in any way suggest or reveal that Jack's biological mother is someone else. This clause is a necessary measure to protect the mental health of minors and family reputation.]
[Article 4: If the female party violates any of the above clauses, it will be considered a serious breach of contract. George has the right to immediately revoke all property and rights granted to the female party under this agreement, and has the right to file a separate lawsuit regarding child custody, requesting modification of Milly's custody arrangement.]
Black and white, clause after clause, like a cold iron net dropping over my head.
The mansion and luxury car from earlier now looked like beautiful candy coating wrapped around poison.
And these so-called supplementary clauses were George's real purpose—a spotless future carefully crafted for Sarah.
He wouldn't let me say I divorced him—to erase any trace of Sarah being a homewrecker.
He wouldn't let me slander Sarah—to ensure Sarah's reputation was flawless when she married into the Smith family.
The most ridiculous and most vicious was the third clause.
Making me publicly claim that Jack was my son.
And the price for violating any clause was taking back everything, and possibly even taking away Milly's custody.
My fingers gripping the edge of the agreement trembled violently from the force, my knuckles turning pale white.
I looked up at George sitting across from me with his indifferent expression, and suddenly let out a bitter laugh.
George, you really know how to calculate.
To bring your beloved Sarah into the family in style, to keep her from even the slightest whisper of gossip, you've really gone to great lengths, scheming every detail.
All the stains that might tarnish her reputation—I had to bear them.
All the clues that might point to her as a homewrecker—I had to cut them off.
Even the son she gave birth to had to be registered under my name, to complete their happy family of three.
How ironic.
I remembered when I married George years ago, how many people gossiped behind my back.
Those nasty comments, those probing looks—George always watched coldly from the sidelines, probably thinking that was the price I deserved for marrying up.
And now, it was Sarah's turn.
But he couldn't wait to dress her in the strongest armor, clear all the thorns from her path, not letting even a speck of dust touch her.
Both George's women, yet the treatment was like heaven and earth.