Chapter 2
Yolanda sat down on the edge of the bed first and picked up her tablet to check her assets.
Charles took a set of pajamas from the closet and went into the shower.
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The sound of water filled the bathroom. Yolanda lowered her lashes, wondering how much money she could get if she divorced him.
Charles never loved her. Their marriage was only because of the ties between the Grant family and the Sinclair family–or more exactly, because of his friendship with her so–called brother.
Yolanda was only the adopted daughter of the Grants.
As she swiped across the screen, a wave of steam drifted over her. Charles rested his chin on her shoulder and quietly looked at the files on her tablet.
“Thinking about divorce?” he asked carelessly, then slid his finger to the previous page. “Have you thought about the cost of leaving me!
The cost was clear: she would get nothing.
Yolanda had wasted two years by his side, living as a full–time housewife. She couldn’t walk away empty–handed.
Charles held her from behind, his posture both forceful and proud. “I’ve been busy with work and ignored you. Are you lonely?”
Yolanda turned off the tablet, lay down, and faced away from him. “I was just looking.”
Divorce wouldn’t be easy. The Grant family would never approve.
Charles slid into bed and pulled her waist back against him. “When you married me, you said you didn’t care if I loved you, as long as you could see me every day.”
Yolanda froze, her heart aching.
It had only been two years, yet hearing her old promise now felt bitter and humiliating.
Charles could never be moved. Born into wealth, used to admiration, he had long been bored with love itself.
Maybe he thought himself too noble. He always looked down on women like Yolanda, raised in big families to be proper and dull.
Yolanda was beautiful; if she hadn’t been, the Grant family would never have taken her in.
She had been raised for one purpose–for marriage. A pretty trap to show the world.
She shut her eyes, not wanting to hear more of his cruel words. But tonight he seemed restless, talkative after chasing thrills elsewhere.
“Yolanda, flowers wither if they’re not watered,” he went on. “If you’re too lonely, find another man to spoil you.”
The last trace of color drained from Yolanda’s face.
Charles truly had no heart. He knew she had loved him for years, yet he always faced her with that cold, calculating look.
In this relationship, she had lost too completely. If she made a scene, she would only look like a clown.
Charles noticed Yolanda keeping her eyes shut and raised a brow.
Over the past two years, he had said plenty of mean words, but she never argued back. Even in bed, she was dull. He never cared for women who lived by the rules.
Charles lay down and closed his eyes.
Only when his breathing grew steady did Yolanda slowly sit up. She looked at him and, for a moment, truly wanted to stab him with a knife.
But wasting her life in prison for a man like him wasn’t worth it.
She picked up her tablet again. Charles refused to divorce now, and with the close ties between the Sinclair family and the Grant family, any scandal would hurt both companies.
After thinking it through, she decided she needed to get back to work. There was always a way out.
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2:12 AM P P
Chapter 2
Just as she was about to lie down, Charles’s phone buzzed. At first, she thought it was hers.
She picked it up and unlocked the screen, only to see a private photo so explicit she froze.
Her eyes widened, then she realized it wasn’t her phone–it was his.
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She quickly put it back. So this was what Charles liked: women who looked innocent on the surface but were bold and reckless behind closed doors.
She was about to lie down when Charles reached for his phone.
His voice came out rough. “Did you touch my phone?”
“I picked up the wrong one. I didn’t read the message.” Yolanda said.
“All right,” Charles replied.
He got up, typed a reply, and stepped out to make a call.
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