I Want a Divorce Every Day, But the Superstar Says No-Chapter 107: Giving Up Everything

Sensing the movement beside him, Simon Storm closed the newspaper, turned slightly and glanced at her: "You’re finally awake?"

The dream had been suffocatingly dark and cold, wrapping her entirely in gloom; now waking up to see her uncle gazing at her tenderly, she felt momentarily dazed.

After a long pause, she gathered herself and spoke softly: "Uncle."

Simon Storm: "I’ve already requested a leave for you from the film crew. Just rest well for the next couple of days."

She glanced around, but her gaze was caught by the bold headline on the financial section of the newspaper, unable to look away.

[Second son of Landon Family sells his shares; Is Universal Corporation about to change hands?]

She blurted out: "Is Durrell Landon out of his mind?"

Simon Storm picked up his teacup, lifted the lid, brushing it lightly, his expression placid: "Since you’ve decided to divorce him, his matters have nothing to do with you anymore."

Quiana Sutton lowered her eyes: "I know."

This time, she wouldn’t let anything shake her resolve.

Simon Storm’s gaze lingered on her face, seemingly scrutinizing, seemingly casual. Ten minutes later, he finally spoke slowly:

"There’s something I need to talk to you about."

"Your grandfather’s health is steadily declining. Although the news has been well kept, hasn’t leaked to the outside, you’re well aware of how many Sutton Estate branches are eager for a chance. If your grandfather falls, everything that belongs to the Sutton Estate may be carved up clean by those collateral relatives.

If everything’s divided, then Golden-Brilliance’s legacy will only be history; the Sutton Estate’s past glory will be gone forever, and it could even trigger a worldwide financial crisis."

Quiana Sutton: "With Nathan Firth and Phoenix around, the Sutton Estate won’t fall."

After all, her grandfather had adopted Nathan Firth precisely to have him inherit everything from the Sutton Estate.

Simon Storm scoffed softly:

"You can’t possibly think that fake Charlotte Sutton and Nathan Firth are truly committed to the Sutton Estate? After your grandfather passes away, maybe Sutton Group will become Firth Corporation. Or do you really intend to watch everything of the Sutton Estate handed over to someone else?"

She took a deep breath.

Even if the Sutton Estate was the root of all her suffering, it was also the home her mother, her father, and her brother cared about most; she couldn’t just watch others destroy it.

At that thought, the confusion in her eyes was fully gone, replaced by icy composure:

"I know. When Phoenix Road wraps up filming and my divorce with Durrell Landon is finalized, I’ll go back to the Sutton Estate."

To reclaim what was always supposed to be hers...

*

After Simon Storm carried Quiana Sutton away, Durrell Landon stood alone, motionless for an unknown length of time—until a phone call snapped him back to himself.

Julian Haworth’s anxious voice sounded in his ear:

"Durrell, something’s happened! Old Mr. Landon collapsed at home; he’s still in the emergency room at Riventon Hospital!"

Durrell Landon’s face darkened instantly at the news.

Half an hour later.

Durrell Landon rushed to Riventon Hospital.

"What happened?"

The butler, seeing Durrell Landon, was instantly reassured; now that the eldest young master was missing and Old Mr. Landon was fighting for his life, only the second young master could take charge. The butler almost began to cry: "Second Young Master, thank goodness you’re here. Old Mr. Landon found out you sold your Universal Corporation shares, he was so furious he coughed up blood and passed out right there."

Durrell Landon’s expression was calm, his long lashes hiding all emotion in his eyes: "I understand. You go get some rest for now."

He’d looked after Old Mr. Landon for decades; with his life hanging in the balance, how could he have the mind to relax?

The butler simply sat down beside Durrell Landon.

He knew the second young master’s background well, knew how distant he was from Old Mr. Landon; but no matter what, Old Mr. Landon was still his blood, his real grandfather—lying in the emergency room now, and Durrell Landon’s face so composed it seemed heartless.

He wanted to say something, opened his mouth, but in the end said nothing at all.

...

The surgery went well. After being wheeled out, Old Mr. Landon was transferred to a general ward.

The next evening, Old Mr. Landon woke up gently.

At sunset’s end, with the final rays piercing through the window, bathing Durrell Landon in faint light, he looked almost saintly, almost blurred. One had to admit—Durrell Landon, who’d inherited his mother’s beauty, merely stood there in utter simplicity and still managed to command every gaze in the room.

Yet sometimes, beauty taken too far becomes its own kind of sin.

In an instant, old memories flooded Old Mr. Landon’s mind, suffocating his heart. Still reliant on the breathing machine after surgery, his labored breaths triggered the "beep, beep, beep" of the monitor nearby.

Hearing the unusual alarm, Durrell Landon slowly turned around, and seeing Old Mr. Landon awake, his tone was cool, with an edge of chill: "Looks like Grandpa’s all right."

"Cough, cough, cough..." Old Mr. Landon burst into a fit of coughing, his memories flashing back to the news he saw; his gaze toward Durrell Landon burned with hate: "I should’ve strangled you at birth! When your older brother got in trouble, not only did you not try to help, you went and sold your shares in Universal Corporation? Do you even consider yourself a member of the Landon Family?"

Durrell Landon lifted his eyelids, looking at Old Mr. Landon with a hint of humor: "Hasn’t Grandpa always thought I’m unfit to be a Landon? Wasn’t it always me—your most hated, your shame—who destroyed the son you loved most?"

Old Mr. Landon, stung by the words, coughed again violently: "Cough, cough, cough..."

The butler, alarmed, hurried forward to comfort him:

"Second Young Master, please don’t say anymore. Old Mr. Landon just came out of surgery and woke up—you can’t provoke him further."

Durrell Landon pressed his lips together, looking at Old Mr. Landon lying on the bed with complicated feelings. After a long silence, he finally spoke:

"Grandpa... since you refuse to acknowledge me as a Landon, then I’ll grant your wish."

"You..."

Old Mr. Landon was so angry that his vision went black and he fainted, leaving the butler flustered and helpless.

"Doctor! Doctor..."

Durrell Landon stepped out of the ward to find Julian Haworth standing outside, seemingly unsure how long he’d been there; his face blank and dazed. Seeing Durrell Landon, he finally snapped out of it—still unable to comprehend why Durrell had sold off his shares.

He’d always figured Durrell Landon was just joking, but after seeing the news report, he realized it was all real.

As Durrell Landon brushed past him, Julian called out:

"Durrell..."

"Wait."

His body was tense, a fire burning in his eyes:

"Durrell, what are you thinking? Because you sold your Universal Corporation shares, the stock price has plummeted and the whole Capital City’s been thrown into chaos."

Durrell Landon didn’t turn back, only replied blandly: "I have my reasons."

Julian Haworth stared after his departing figure, muttering relentlessly: "Durrell... you’ve changed..."