I Want a Divorce Every Day, But the Superstar Says No-Chapter 127: Are They Planning a Double Suicide?

Chapter 127: Chapter 127: Are They Planning a Double Suicide?

Durrell Landon’s face bore little expression, but it was precisely because of this calmness that both Quiana Sutton and Oliver Gale felt inexplicably uneasy.

At this awkward moment, Aaron, standing next to Durrell, insensitively remarked, "Master, are they preparing to die for love?"

Upon hearing this, Durrell turned to look at Aaron, his eyes brimming with a danger that could destroy worlds, yet his voice remained light and gentle: "Do you think they are preparing to die for love?"

Aaron involuntarily sucked in a breath, his instincts telling him that the master was extremely angry at this moment.

He awkwardly laughed, "Master, I was just talking nonsense."

After all, the scene just now was truly suggestive and easily misunderstood.

What dying for love, Quiana, in a fit of anger, jumped straight down from the bridge. The bridge was about two meters from the ground, and due to inertia, her body tilted slightly forward. Instinctively, Durrell caught her, his arms wrapped around her waist, tightening uncontrollably: "This is utter nonsense."

After stabilizing, Quiana tried to break free from Durrell’s embrace, only to find his arm around her waist was like iron and couldn’t be shaken off. She looked at him, somewhat breathlessly, "I just wanted to feel the wind."

She simply wanted to stand at the edge of danger, reminding herself of her precarious life, lest she accidentally immerse in the happiness Durrell woven for her and forget what she truly was.

Durrell looked down at her silently, as if believing her and yet not. In the next moment, she only felt the world spin, and she was hoisted onto Durrell’s shoulder.

"We’re going home."

Quiana: "..."

She beat against his back, struggling continuously: "I want to go back to the crew’s hotel, not Imperial View Manor."

Durrell paused his steps, "Then we’ll go to the crew’s hotel."

He pushed her into the car’s back seat, fastening her seatbelt but didn’t immediately move away. Instead, he propped up on either side of her, trapping her in an overwhelmingly oppressive manner: "Why didn’t you answer my calls?"

This posture made her slightly uncomfortable: "Can’t I just not want to answer?"

"Why didn’t you want to answer?"

"I’m in a bad mood."

"Why are you in a bad mood?"

Quiana: "..."

She never knew Durrell could be so probing; this really ruined his cool image, didn’t it?

She averted her gaze, not looking at him, speaking softly: "It’s my time of the month, mood swings are normal."

Durrell instinctively glanced downward, muttering softly: "I’ve never seen your mood swing so much before."

Quiana simply closed her eyes, no longer looking at Durrell.

Otherwise, she feared she couldn’t resist wanting to hit him.

While in the car, Aaron occasionally glanced at the rearview mirror. To be honest, he was very curious about the boss’s wife.

Just when he thought Durrell hadn’t noticed, he inadvertently saw a dangerous curve at Durrell’s mouth, like a beast ready to pounce. It was as if the next second, he’d have his throat seized, making him quickly avert his eyes, not daring to randomly glance around again.

Boo hoo hoo...

He cried internally, the boss’s possessiveness was too strong.

Oliver Gale stared at the departing black car, feeling a mess in the wind...

Why, wasn’t he worthy of some care?

Durrell Landon hadn’t even glanced at him.

Dejectedly, as he was about to come down from the bridge, a passerby happened to walk by, mistaking that Oliver was about to jump into the river, and reported to the police. When the police arrived, they repeatedly tried to brainwash him, advising him that life still held good years ahead and not to jump in haste.

It took a while, and after explaining hundreds of times that he had no intention of jumping, he barely managed to free himself and return to his villa.

Durrell took Quiana back to the hotel, and after she returned to her room, he waited downstairs for a long time before finally speaking, "Let’s go..."

Quiana lay on the bed, mindlessly playing with her phone, intending to sleep when an unexpected call came.

She looked at the caller’s number, lost in thought.

It had been almost three years since she left the Sutton Estate, and her grandfather hadn’t called to check on her once. Why was he suddenly calling today?

Despite not understanding, she pressed the answer button.

Contrary to her expectations, there was no concern, only blame.

"Haven’t I told you, the things that belong to Phoebe, you mustn’t touch any of them?"

Hearing this, she seemed to somewhat understand. Charlotte Sutton must have been upset at Nathan Firth’s and was now going back to find support.

Ever since they were young, it was always like this. Whenever she felt aggrieved, she’d look for her grandfather to claim justice, calmly watching Quiana get punished by him, while she stood beside sneering or fanning the flames, causing her grandfather to impose even harsher penalties on Quiana.

Thinking of this, she sneered, her eyes full of unconcealed scorn: "What did she tell you this time? That I’m rekindling an old flame with Nathan Firth, or that I’m bullying her in the Capital City?"

Old Man Sutton listening to Quiana’s words, his face slightly darkened. Didn’t he understand her yet? Wanton from a young age, if she hadn’t insisted on going out with Henry back then, how could such a kidnapping have happened?

"Enough, I don’t want to hear your explanations. Come back immediately, apologize to Phoebe properly, and then stay in the confinement room for a month."

She hung up the phone directly.

She could almost imagine her grandfather’s furious rage, and how Charlotte misrepresented her.

But it was no longer important.

At this moment, she no longer cared about anything.

Her grandfather only ever believed in what he chose to believe, never listening to her explanations.

Now, having left for three years, they were even more estranged, and she no longer felt the need to explain.

Especially being asked to apologize to Charlotte—for the rest of her life, it would be impossible.

A woman who took her identity and name, she could never bow down to in this lifetime.

After hanging up, an overwhelming fatigue swept over her. Tossing and turning on the bed unable to sleep, she took a hot bath, gradually dissipating the exhaustion.

Quiana wiped her wet long hair, looking at the blurred image of the girl in the mirror, letting out a gentle sigh.

Even if she didn’t care, it was still truly exhausting. Her grandfather forcibly burdened her with guilt, forcing her to live in suppressed pain.

At this moment, the mirror once again showed that blurred image, a voice full of temptation: "I’ll help you, just give me your body, and all the pain will vanish..."

No, impossible...

She abruptly opened her eyes, it was impossible to hand over her body to another, even if it was her alternate personality.

Taking a deep breath, Quiana is just Quiana, living freely and openly is enough; she owes no one, and doesn’t need to change for anyone.

...