Chapter 67: Chapter 67: Divorce, Divorce, Will You Ever Stop?

’Or has she gotten so used to the pampered life of a wealthy wife over the years that she’s no longer willing to go out and work hard?’

’That must be it.’

’All this talk about divorce, being able to support herself, her paper-cutting, drinking one or two-dollar bottles of water... it was all clearly a ploy to get his attention.’

’No wonder she’d run off to Cygnus by herself this time without his permission, leaving a sick Joshua Lawson behind.’

’That cartoon-style version of A Renaissance Cityscape Painting... She must have seen it at home before. She hid that knowledge, probably waiting for this very day.’

’Since Director Ford was her mentor, how could she not have been following his recent exhibition?’

’He really had never understood his little mute wife.’

’How incredibly calculating!’

’For seven whole years, they had lived together peacefully. He’d thought she was truly content to just be his dutiful wife.’

’All because he didn’t take her to the parent-child event.’

’She started throwing a fit.’

’And she’s been at it ever since.’

’He finally understood. She was no longer content with just being his wife in a secret marriage.’

’Everything she was doing, it was all to get him to make her identity public.’

Tristan Lawson took a step forward.

Closing in on her.

His presence was cold and unyielding.

It was as if the air around them had instantly been coated in a layer of frost.

"Tell me, do you really not want to go back to work?"

"I don’t, I don’t, I don’t!"

Noelle Sutton repeated the sign three times.

’Seven years. She refused to endure it for another second!’

’She was even more tired of trying to warm up this cold, hard stone of a man with her affection.’

Tristan Lawson sneered. "Fine. If you don’t want to work, then just be a good Mrs. Lawson. Do as your husband says. Find some time to tell Director Ford that you’re never going to work, and while you’re at it, recommend Sophie Hughes to be her student."

Noelle Sutton’s heart was utterly torn to pieces.

’He was actually telling her to go to her own mentor and recommend the woman he loved...’

’What kind of monster could make such a decision, could say such things!’

With her eyes rimmed in red, Noelle Sutton signed to him, "I can make the recommendation. But you have to promise me one thing."

"Name it."

’Noelle Sutton was his wife. As long as her request was reasonable, he wouldn’t necessarily refuse.’

’He had never mistreated her over the years.’

’He’d given her all the money and material possessions she could want.’

’She had done nothing at all. He had simply spared her a second glance, and in return, he gave her the status of Mrs. Lawson, allowing her to leap from the bottom of society to become the most respected woman in Glenwater.’

’That kind of leap in social status was something countless people strive for their entire lives but could never achieve.’

"A divorce."

Noelle Sutton’s signing was as resolute as her gaze.

Tristan Lawson took a deep breath, turning his head to the side and running his tongue along the inside of his cheek.

A moment later, he whipped his head back around and glared at Noelle Sutton.

"Divorce, divorce! Are you ever going to stop?"

’How exactly has he wronged her?’

’To get her a one-of-a-kind brooch, he had spent nearly two hundred million.’

Tristan Lawson grabbed Noelle Sutton’s wrist and pulled her into the living room.

He picked up the swan brooch from the coffee table, dangled it in front of Noelle Sutton, and demanded, "Do you have any idea how much money I spent to buy you this gift?"

Noelle Sutton let out a bitter laugh.

’He was such a good actor. So convincing.’

’If she hadn’t already seen Sophie Hughes wearing this brooch.’

’She might have actually believed him, might have even been moved to tears of gratitude.’

’She had always thought a man with Tristan Lawson’s personality would disdain acting, and even more so, deceit.’

’For these past seven years, she had constantly been learning his preferences.’

’She knew what foods he liked.’

’Knew his dietary restrictions.’

’Knew his clothing sizes and his favorite brands.’

’She knew so many things about him, and she’d mistaken that for truly knowing him.’

’But ever since Sophie Hughes appeared, she’d realized she didn’t know Tristan Lawson at all.’

’What she knew was merely superficial.’

’They were husband and wife. Legally.’

’And yet, that marriage certificate, the document meant to protect the rights of their union, was nothing more than a useless piece of paper to them—an obstacle that now trapped her and prevented a quick escape.’

’He had never once treated her like a wife.’

’And yet she had foolishly wallowed in this marriage for seven years, moved by her own one-sided devotion!’

Tristan Lawson said furiously, "One hundred and eighty-four million. A mere fraction of that would take a normal person ten years of hard work to save. Noelle Sutton, what the hell are you kicking up a fuss about? You’re still not satisfied with this kind of life, hmm?"

A lump formed in Noelle Sutton’s throat, nearly choking her.

’She didn’t want to say anything. Besides, it’s not like she could speak anyway.’

She turned to leave.

Tristan Lawson suddenly wrapped his arms around her waist from behind, his hands caressing her shapely hips. "Alright, I’m not going to fight with you. You’re causing all this commotion just to get more of my attention, aren’t you?"

He rested his chin in the crook of her neck, inhaling her pleasant fragrance, and murmured in a low, husky voice, "I’m giving you my attention now. I’ll come home more often to be with you, too. Be good. Don’t make a fuss anymore."

’He didn’t want to argue.’

’They would just argue and argue, but she couldn’t speak, so in the end, he’d be the only one getting angry by himself.’

’It was so pointless.’

His hand slid up from her waist, unfastening the brooch and pinning it to the lapel of her coat. He turned her around to face him, cupped her cheek with one hand, and gently caressed her cheekbone with his thumb.

"It suits you."

Noelle Sutton was truly at a loss for words.

She tried to unpin the brooch, but just as her hand moved, Tristan Lawson gripped her slender waist with both hands and, with a slight effort, lifted her into his arms.

She froze, afraid she would fall if she struggled.

He carried her into the bedroom.

Tristan Lawson had booked the presidential suite; the bedroom alone was over two hundred square meters.

It came with every possible amenity.

He sat down on the sofa, showing no intention of letting Noelle Sutton go.

He held her trapped in his lap like a child.

His cold, arrogant, handsome eyes stared straight at her. "I remember you said you wanted to have a talk with me, but we never got around to it. I happen to be free today, so let’s have a good long talk."

’He was going to get to the bottom of this. He wanted to figure out exactly how he’d wronged her to make her cause trouble for so long and leave him so utterly frazzled.’

’Noelle Sutton had long since lost any desire to talk.’

’What was there to talk about?’

’She had thought her suspicions were just a misunderstanding.’

’But in the blink of an eye, he had taken Sophie Hughes on a business trip, and even Joshua had helped them hide it from her.’

’Her legal husband’s heart was filled with thoughts of Sophie Hughes.’

’Her own son resented her for being mute, wanted Sophie Hughes to be his mother, and had told the nurses she was a nanny.’

’What hope could she possibly have left for this father and son?’

’She just wanted a divorce.’

’To get away from them as soon as possible and live out her last six months in peace.’

Noelle Sutton’s face was a mask of stubbornness, her hands flying as she signed, "There’s nothing to talk about."

Tristan Lawson’s large hand suddenly squeezed her waist. Noelle Sutton froze, her body threatening to tremble uncontrollably.

Her fist pounded against his chest.

Softly.

With no force behind it.

A roguish smirk touched Tristan Lawson’s lips as he raised an eyebrow. He caught her fist, his voice turning husky. "Trying to seduce me?"

’He’s infuriating.’

’She was angry.’

’Couldn’t he tell?’

’Lately, it was like he was constantly in heat.’

’So annoying.’

He guided her hand to his chest, his eyes darkening. He lowered his head, pressing his chin into the crook of her neck, his breath hot against her skin.

His elegant, thin lips drew near her ear, his voice so low that only the two of them could hear...