Chapter 4: Chapter 4: From This Moment On, I Don’t Love You Anymore

Yvonne Sutton tried to shake off Vincent Reed’s hand, but he wrapped his arms around her from behind.

She lowered her head to bite him, only for him to grab her by the chin.

He then shoved her into the car and ordered the driver to go.

The driver was Vincent Reed’s personal chauffeur and knew Yvonne Sutton as well. He glanced back, sensing the tense atmosphere.

"Lynch, he’s crazy! Please, let me out of the car!" Yvonne pleaded.

"Mr. Reed, Miss Sutton is..."

"Who the fuck do you listen to? Who pays your salary?"

The driver, figuring it was just a lovers’ quarrel and afraid of getting caught in the crossfire, quickly pulled away from the curb.

Unable to struggle free, Yvonne Sutton slowly began to calm down.

"Vincent Reed, I’m not going to fight or argue with you. We’ve already broken up. There’s no need to make this so ugly!"

Vincent Reed’s face was livid. "Break up? Heh. I don’t agree!"

"You’re about to marry Wendy Winters. Can’t you just let me go?"

"I can’t!" 𝚏𝗿𝗲𝐞𝚠𝕖𝐛𝗻𝗼𝐯𝕖𝚕.𝚌𝗼𝗺

"You!"

Vincent Reed yanked Yvonne Sutton into a tight embrace, hissing through clenched teeth into her ear, "Didn’t you used to want to have my baby? Fine. I’ll make sure you get pregnant tonight!"

"Vincent Reed! You bastard!"

Yvonne whipped around and slapped him. A sharp SMACK echoed through the car, which immediately fell silent.

Vincent Reed stared at her in disbelief. "You... you dare to hit me!"

Yvonne’s eyes burned with unshed tears, but she bit her lower lip, refusing to cry.

’This was the man I’ve loved for eight years,’ she thought. ’How could he say something like that to me?’

’He doesn’t even have a shred of respect for me!’

"Vincent Reed, what am I to you? A free maid, or just a cheap whore?"

Furious from the slap, Vincent Reed spat, "At least you have a clear picture of yourself. Maid or whore, it was all your choice. Who told you to be so damn cheap!"

Yvonne Sutton stared at Vincent Reed for a long time before finally letting out a self-mocking laugh.

"You’re right," she said. "I am cheap. I get what I deserve."

"All you ever wanted was to marry me. Do you think you’re worthy?"

"I’m not."

"You... You’re jealous of Wendy. Can you even compare to her?"

"I can’t."

"You... You..."

The calmer Yvonne became, the more flustered Vincent grew.

"You let me fuck you for free for eight years. You think any other man is going to want you?"

"So I’m just trash in your eyes?"

Vincent Reed’s lips thinned into a hard line. "That’s right. You’re a piece of trash!"

Yvonne Sutton nodded.

’At that moment, she felt an overwhelming sense of clarity, and even relief. She had finally seen Vincent Reed for who he truly was.’

’Eight years wasn’t a short time, but her life still held many more eight-year spans.’

Thinking this, Yvonne Sutton let out a small laugh.

"What are you laughing at?" Vincent demanded through clenched teeth.

Yvonne looked at Vincent, a smile playing on her lips. "Vincent Reed, as of this moment, I no longer love you."

Vincent was struck silent. Yvonne had threatened to break up with him many times, but she had never once said she no longer loved him.

"Lynch, could you please pull over?" Yvonne said to the driver.

The driver, who had been silent this whole time, hesitated. "Miss Sutton, we’re on the freeway right now..."

Yvonne wasn’t about to get herself stranded on the freeway just to prove a point. "Then do it after we get off the freeway."

Just then, Vincent Reed’s phone rang.

His face had been a mask of fury, but seeing the caller was Wendy Winters, his expression instantly softened.

Wendy said she was on set, but reporters had surrounded the area, and she needed him to come get her.

"Okay, I’m on my way now!"

Vincent hung up and told the driver to take the next exit toward Norport.

Yvonne frowned. Her villa was in the South District.

"Lynch, please just exit the freeway and let me out."

"Pull over. Let her get out," Vincent snarled.

The driver froze for a second. "But... this is the freeway..."

"I said stop the car, so stop the damn car!"

The driver had no choice but to pull over onto the shoulder.

Vincent Reed shoved Yvonne right out of the car. By the time she caught her balance, she remembered her purse was still inside.

She turned to look, but the car was already far in the distance...

It was the middle of the evening rush hour, and cars streamed past on the freeway. She walked along the very edge of the road toward the next exit, horns occasionally blaring behind her. One irate driver rolled down his window to yell, "Are you trying to get yourself killed?!"

After walking for over an hour, she finally made it off the freeway. But with no phone and no money, her only option was to continue walking home.

The night wind was chilly, and she hugged her arms, trying to keep warm.

The traffic on the streets thinned out. On a corner, she encountered a drunk who tried to paw at her, forcing her to grit her teeth and run for her life.

She tripped at one point, scraping her knee painfully, but she didn’t dare stop. She scrambled back up and kept running with a limp until she finally shook the drunkard.

Her villa was in a suburban neighborhood. By the time she finally made it home, day was breaking.

A soft light glowed from within the villa. She froze for a moment before walking up and knocking on the door.

The person who opened the door was Wendy Winters.

Her hair was loose around her shoulders, and she was wearing a low-cut slip dress. Seeing Yvonne standing outside, she let out a small sound of surprise.

"What took you so long to get back?"

Yvonne’s brow furrowed.

’What is Wendy Winters doing in my house?’

"What are you doing here?"

Wendy blinked innocently. "Vincent brought me."

Yvonne brushed past her and walked inside, just in time to see Vincent Reed emerging from the kitchen. He was holding a steaming bowl of tomato and egg noodle soup.

’He knows how to cook?’

’Heh. And I never even knew.’

She recalled a time she had a high fever, her body drenched in a cold sweat. Vincent had come home late from work, complaining about how hungry he was, and demanded that she cook for him.

She had felt so helpless then. "If you don’t like eating out, then you should learn to cook. What are you going to do when I’m not here? Starve?"

He had hugged her and replied like a spoiled child, "I’m not learning. I want you to cook for me for the rest of our lives."

Thinking of this, Yvonne gave a bitter smile.

’Sure enough. Wendy was his princess, and I was just his maid.’

’After all, who cooks a meal for the hired help...?’

Vincent shot her a cold glance before pulling Wendy over to the living room.

He set the bowl on the coffee table, then grabbed a throw pillow and tucked it behind Wendy’s back.

"I don’t have an appetite," Wendy pouted.

"You have to eat something. Breakfast is important." Vincent picked up the bowl and brought a spoonful to Wendy’s lips.

Wendy took a reluctant bite, then shook her head. "It doesn’t taste good. It’s too salty."

"Is it?" Vincent tasted it himself. "You’re right, it is a bit salty. I’ll go make you another bowl."

Not minding the trouble in the slightest, he hurried back to the kitchen to get to work.

Yvonne was exhausted. All she wanted now was to crawl into bed and sleep.

She dragged herself to the bedroom, only to find the covers on her bed turned down, a pillow on the floor, and Wendy’s clothes on the hanger. Her own clothes had been thrown onto a chair to the side.

Suppressing a wave of fury, she ran back downstairs and demanded, "Who slept in my bedroom last night?"

Vincent glanced at her. "Wendy will be living here from now on."

"This is my home. Did I say she could?"

Vincent frowned. "This is my house. My permission is all that matters."

Yvonne’s expression froze.

He was right. The house belonged to him.

She had rented her own apartment after graduating from college, but Vincent complained that it was too small for him to stay over comfortably, so he insisted she move in here with him.

And while she didn’t pay rent, she covered all the day-to-day household expenses.

She didn’t owe Vincent a thing. Not a single thing.

"Vincent and I plan to redecorate this place to be our marital home. We can save a room for you, though!" Wendy said, tilting her head with a smile.

"Don’t bother!"

Tossing out those two words, Yvonne immediately went upstairs. She pulled a suitcase from the closet, threw her things inside, and came back down, ready to leave.

"Yvonne, my patience is wearing thin. I’ve let you throw your little tantrums, but if you walk out that door with your suitcase, we are really, truly over. There will be no going back," Vincent said through clenched teeth.

Yvonne was already at the entryway. At his words, she turned around. She stared straight at Vincent and placed the set of keys she was holding on top of the shoe cabinet.

"Let’s make it a clean break."