Chapter 9 Sword Drawn and Crossbows Tense
Irene could barely contain her smile as she watched the tense atmosphere between the two.
She rushed forward to intervene, though her words only added fuel to the fire, "Harper, don't be so stubborn. Just apologize to Rupert already. Jared and I can handle a little discomfort, but Rupert is the head of this household."
If there was one thing Rupert valued above all else, it was saving face.
Whether at home or in public.
And Irene excelled at playing the victim while flattering him, perfectly satisfying his vanity.
Hearing her words, his anger lessened a bit, though he still shot a sharp look at Harper.
Harper couldn't be bothered with their nonsense.
"Every guest room in the Getty mansion has security cameras. We can see how Jared got in."
The Getty family rarely had visitors, but for security purposes, they had installed monitoring systems throughout.
Conveniently, Harper was staying in one of the guest rooms tonight.
Irene's expression froze at Harper's words.
Harper quickly had someone retrieve the security footage, which clearly seen that it was Jared who took a piece of wire and got the maid to open unlock the guest room door.
Rupert's brow furrowed.
Panicking, Irene immediately stood up and pointed accusingly at Harper. "It was you! You must have instructed the servant to bring Jared to your bedroom! Otherwise, how would he know where you were staying in this massive house?"
Seemingly having found her excuse, Irene clutched Rupert's arm desperately. "Rupert, my poor Jared has suffered enough. We thought returning to the Getty mansion would give us some peace, but Harper clearly can't stand either of us."
"If you hate me, fine. But Jared is just a three-year-old child—what could he possibly understand about all this?"
Rupert felt his head nearly exploding from the commotion. Looking at Irene's tearful face in his arms, his heart softened.
Yet Harper seemed so confident in her position.
Harper wore an expression suggesting she'd anticipated all this. She let out a soft laugh.
"Finished yet?" She asked.
Irene's fake crying paused as she looked up in confusion.
What was Harper up to now?
Harper calmly took out her phone. "Now it's my turn."
She pressed play, and the recording revealed a child's rustling movements and angry muttering.
"Bad woman, just die! Once you're dead, I'll be the master of the Getty Family..."
Jared's childish voice was particularly jarring.
Both Irene and Rupert froze.
Irene hadn't expected Harper to be so thorough, with both audio and video evidence. Even with ten mouths, she couldn't talk her way out of this.
And Jared's language was filthy, it's not like something a three year old could say.
Irene gritted her teeth, wishing she could tear Harper to pieces.
But the phone in Harper's hand held undeniable evidence.
Seeing Rupert frozen in place, Harper's lips curved into a smile. "Is this evidence sufficient?"
Rupert's face darkened terribly as his eyes locked onto Harper.
Finally, he spat out a few words, "Delete it."
Harper wasn't surprised. She knew he would always protect Irene and her son, no matter what.
She lifted her chin slightly. "I can do that."
"But you'll sign the divorce papers. Right now."
Rupert's stern face turned toward Harper.
Until now, he'd believed Harper was just putting on an act.
How could she fall out of love after all these years? How could she possibly want a divorce?
But now, reality was slapping him in the face.
Rupert felt a surge of irritation; his pride was wounded, and Jared's troublemaking challenged everything he thought he knew.
Harper stood up. Though the Getty mansion wasn't enormous, it had been their marital home, and from the moment Wesley had gifted it to them, she had personally designed every detail, down to the guest rooms.
Harper had an exceptional sense of aesthetics from childhood, inheriting Niamh's talent for art and design.
Even the paintings and vases in the guest rooms had been carefully selected by her.
She stood and looked around the room.
"Besides what I mentioned before, I decorated this entire mansion. I'll be taking everything with me, piece by piece."
With that, Harper retrieved her divorce agreement, handed it to Rupert, and began calmly instructing the servants to pack her belongings.
"All the vases, paintings, and garden plants—everything comes with me."
The vein on Rupert's forehead throbbed again.
He clutched the pen tightly, looking at Harper with humiliated anger. "Haven't you caused enough drama?"
She's getting a divorce and wanted to empty the Getty mansion?
Harper stood her ground, tilting her head slightly as she looked at him.
"You think I'm just being dramatic?"
Harper's words dealt Rupert a fatal blow.
The old Harper would never have spoken this way, but in the past few days, she had changed dramatically.
Rupert would never understand that a person's heart could die.
No matter how passionate Harper's love for him had once been, it had withered under his repeated wounds.
Rupert stood motionless, watching as servants began removing paintings from the living room.
The staff worked with practiced efficiency, quickly taking things down while an extremely awkward atmosphere filled the living room. No one dared say a word.
After a long while, Rupert walked to the bedroom, where he found all of Harper's belongings already packed.
His instincts told him this was real.
Harper was truly leaving.
"Everyone out," Rupert commanded from the doorway, his demeanor cold. The servants who had been packing immediately froze, then hurried out of the bedroom.
"Have you signed it?" Harper asked, sitting at her vanity table. Her heart felt an unprecedented joy, and even her lingering cold seemed to sense her imminent rebirth, causing no discomfort.
Rupert approached step by step.
Looking at her beautiful, familiar face, he sneered, "You will stop at nothing to drive Irene and her family out."
Harper smiled faintly.
"I underestimated you, Harper."
"You approached me step by step, just to become Mrs. Getty. And now what do you want? Shares? The company?"
"I never realized how calculating you are. Mental illness really is hereditary—your mother, Niamh, wasn't right in the head, and neither are you."
Harper's face instantly went cold.
Niamh was her untouchable sore spot.
She shot back without mercy, "I'm divorcing you because I've realized you're a hopeless case! I'm taking back what belongs to me. You cheat during our marriage and then blame me? Rupert, is this how your grandfather raised you?"
"All those years of education, and it just went in one ear and out the other?"
"Your affair with Irene is the talk of all Meridian Bay, and no one even knows whose child Jared really is. How dare you stand there acting superior?"