Every time my husband, Ethan Sterling, brought a younger woman home, he was considerate enough to bring a younger man for me too. “I need something new. You need company.” He said it as casually as if he were discussing an ordinary business deal. “We both get what we want, Claire. No one gets to judge the other.” For the past three years, I had sent every one of those men away. Until this time, Ethan finally went too far. When he brought the pregnant Chloe back to the villa, he also brought me a hockey player with broad shoulders and a narrow waist. “Chloe got pregnant by accident.” He set down his whiskey, speaking with the patience of a man trying to reason with me. “She doesn’t want the baby to be born illegitimate, so we’ll get divorced for now.” “After the baby is born, I’ll marry you again.” He pointed toward the young man standing beside the fireplace. “Until then, Julian can keep you company. I won’t interfere.” He probably thought I would do what I always did—slip Julian a check and tell him to leave. This time, I didn’t. Instead, I smiled faintly. “Yes.” Ethan paused with the cigar between his teeth. “Claire, what did you just say?” I set down my phone and shifted my gaze from Ethan to Julian. “I said yes.” I looked him over from head to toe. He stood over six feet tall, with short dark-brown hair and deep gray-blue eyes. His lean, powerful body was wrapped in a simple white shirt, yet he looked cleaner than every self-important man in the room. “You’re right. He’s gorgeous,” I said. The smile on Ethan’s face faded, but he said nothing. His mistress, Chloe, instinctively tightened her grip on his arm. “Claire has finally come around. We should be happy for her, shouldn’t we?” “Of course.” He crushed out his cigar, walked over to Julian, and spoke in a teasing, frivolous tone. “Take good care of her tonight.” Then he wrapped an arm around Chloe and took her upstairs. I looked at Julian. The tips of his ears were slightly red, and the lines of muscle beneath his sleeves were beautifully defined. “Are you staying in your dorm tonight, or here?” “Either is fine.” “Then stay with me.” I turned toward the hallway. Behind me, the servants quickly lowered their voices and began whispering. “She’s obviously just putting on a show for Ethan.” “The last time Ethan brought home that football player, she had security throw him out.” “Don’t worry. Claire is hopelessly devoted to Ethan. She’d rather die alone than touch one of Ethan’s hired playthings.” Their words pricked my spine like needles. They weren’t wrong. I had once been too proud, too convinced that my loyalty could preserve something. I had driven away every man Ethan brought home, believing that at least I was cleaner than he was. And what had that gotten me? Ethan’s mistress was pregnant and flaunting it in my face. What had my pride protected? A divorce agreement? An empty marriage bed? Or a house full of people waiting to laugh at me? I opened the second-floor guest room. “We’re here.” Julian stood in the shadowed hallway, his tall frame half-swallowed by the darkness. I stumbled. A strong arm caught me. “Careful.” I caught the faint scent of mint on him. His hot breath brushed my neck. My back pressed against the heated chest beneath his shirt—and against the hard, rapid beat of his heart. He was nervous. This time, Ethan really had spared no expense. Julian Hart, a former college hockey star, a scholarship student at Columbia Law School, and already holding an offer from a top firm after graduation. He wasn’t some male model Ethan had picked up from a bar, but his face and body were better than any model’s. His handsome features were clean-cut and still carried a trace of youthful innocence. “Did you really come for the money?” “Yes.” His answer was immediate. He didn’t try to defend himself. The old me would have laughed coldly, asked how much he wanted, and paid him to leave. Back then, I had stood on moral high ground as though one touch from him would contaminate me. Yet all the people I had called “unclean” had left. Ethan never came back. Looking at it now, which of them had ever been dirtier than my husband? “Tell the housekeeper if you need anything.” I turned and walked farther into the room. He followed me inside. “My name is Julian,” he said quietly. “I know. Ethan told me.” “I mean…” Julian added softly, “you can do anything you want with me.” I looked at him for a moment, then nodded. “All right. Go shower first.” When I returned to the master bedroom, the divorce agreement Ethan had prepared was sitting on the nightstand. For the past three years, I had turned a blind eye to Ethan’s absurd behavior. Only because something had happened between us three years ago, leaving a rift neither of us knew how to cross. He had his reasons. I had mine. At first, I told him that as long as he didn’t bring those women home, I could tolerate it. Later, I said as long as he didn’t get one of them pregnant, I could still let it go. I yielded step by step. He pushed step by step. Now, perhaps we were both tired of the marriage. There was nothing left to hesitate over. I picked up a pen and signed my name. At that exact moment, the bathroom door opened. Julian stepped out in a white shirt, the ends of his dark-brown hair still damp. The moment he saw me, the tips of his ears turned red again. I looked him over. “Don’t be so shy. Didn’t you say I could do anything I wanted with you?” “Yes.” “Then take off your clothes. Come to my room.”
When Ethan texted me, Julian was sitting on the edge of my bed. My toes rested against the hard lines of his abdomen. He massaged my calf, his fingertips gliding over my skin like a faint electric current. Go to bed early, Ethan wrote. I stared at those three words and found them ridiculous. He had never cared what time I went to sleep before. Why remember now? Because Julian had stayed? Or because he had finally realized that the woman he believed would never touch anyone else might truly walk into another man’s arms? Ethan and his mistress were staying in the guest room beside the master bedroom. My lover was in my bed. This villa, worth tens of millions of dollars, had become an exquisitely decorated landfill. Anyone could live here. I ignored Ethan’s pointless message and crooked a finger at Julian. Julian moved over me, his lean, powerful body pressing mine into the mattress. I heard his soft breathing against my ear. His kisses landed on my forehead, my cheek, and then my lips. I wrapped my legs around his waist, my body rising and falling with his movements. He moved inside me with strength, yet when he lowered his head to kiss me, he was gentle. His deep eyes held mine. “Claire, tell me anytime if you want me to change positions.” My rising body heat was the only answer I gave him. Ethan thought I was still the same Claire I had always been. He thought I wouldn’t dare. That I never would. That I would preserve my so-called loyalty forever. He was wrong. The next morning, my lower back was still sore when I went downstairs. Julian was in the kitchen helping the housekeeper prepare breakfast. The moment he saw me, the spatula nearly slipped from his hand. I smiled. The man who had whispered, “You can do anything you want with me,” and seemed to possess endless strength last night was suddenly shy again this morning. A moment later, Ethan came downstairs. He sat across from me and lifted his coffee. “You’re up early.” He glanced at Julian, then looked at me with an amused smile. “How was last night?” Before I could answer, several people suddenly entered the villa. Mason and a group of Ethan’s friends burst in. “Ethan, who won?” “I bet Julian wouldn’t last until breakfast. Five hundred thousand dollars.” “I bet she threw him out last night. Three-to-one odds, with Ethan holding the book—” Their voices cut off. The moment they saw me, their excitement turned to embarrassment. “Good morning, Claire.” Ethan sipped his coffee leisurely, as though his friends betting on our marriage were something to be proud of. “Sit down.” Then I looked at Julian. “You should go to class.” Julian paused, untied the apron, picked up his coat, and left. As soon as the door closed, Mason lowered his voice and laughed. “See? She threw him out after all.” Someone else said, “Ethan knew it. Claire was only putting on a show.” “A wife should be like Claire. She knows her limits, and she knows how to protect her place.” At those words, Ethan visibly relaxed, faint satisfaction settling over his features. I drew a breath and stepped out of the dining room. At the same moment, Ethan spoke. “Come with me to dinner at the Westchester estate tonight.” “At two this afternoon,” I said, “meet me at the law firm to sign the divorce papers.”
The living room went silent. I placed the signed agreement on the table. “Let’s take care of this first.” Ethan froze for a second, his gaze falling on my signature. I knew what he was thinking. The old me would have torn the agreement apart and demanded through red-rimmed eyes how he could decide to divorce me so easily. Without several rounds of fighting and emotional tug-of-war, we never would have reached the signing stage. But this time, I only looked at him. “Are you coming at two or not?” Ethan leaned lazily back in his chair. “What’s the rush? Didn’t we agree to wait until Chloe’s pregnancy was stable?” “I can’t wait.” Last night, after we had finished, I had lain in Julian’s arms and asked, “I’m done treating this like a game. If I leave Ethan for good, would you want something real with me?” Disbelief flashed across Julian’s face, joy hidden deep in his eyes. He placed my hand against his burning chest. “I’ve wanted something real with you from the moment I walked through that door. But are you really going to divorce Mr. Sterling?” I nodded. “Yes.” Now, the atmosphere in the living room had frozen solid. Ethan still thought I was joking. “Claire, what’s the rush? Are you still half asleep?” “You’d better sign before I change my mind.” Chloe came down the stairs with both hands protectively over her stomach. “Claire, don’t be angry. I just don’t want the media calling my baby illegitimate the moment it’s born.” Her eyes turned red, making her look delicate and pitiful. “The divorce can wait until the pregnancy is stable. Really. I don’t want to force you.” She sounded as though she were more reluctant to end my marriage than I was. Ethan glanced at her, and his expression turned cold. The one thing he could never tolerate was anyone thinking he lacked the courage to face the consequences of his actions. “You think I’m afraid to sign?” He picked up a fountain pen. Mason spoke immediately. “Ethan, don’t do anything reckless.” “Shut up.” Ethan bent over and signed, then threw the pen heavily onto the table. “Everyone here can bear witness. Once the baby is born, Claire and I will remarry.” He stood, leaned close to my ear, and spoke with confident intimacy. “You’re the woman I dragged back from the edge of death.” “What man out there could possibly compare to me? You don’t want anyone but me anyway.” “And you’ll raise this child after it’s born. You’re the only woman fit to be Mrs. Sterling.” I gave a soft laugh. So this was what he called love. I didn’t answer. I picked up the suitcase I had packed long ago and walked out of the villa. Behind me, Chloe asked softly, “What if she really doesn’t come back?” Ethan held an unlit cigar between his fingers and fell silent for a moment. “Claire can’t live without me. She just needs time to cool down.” His expression relaxed. “Once Chloe gives birth, Claire will beg me to remarry her. Want to bet?” His original plan had been for us to keep living together after the divorce. He believed I would remain in the villa, obediently continue acting as his wife, and wait for him to resolve the issue of the child. But I truly left. That was clearly outside his expectations. Even so, he still believed the outcome would not change. “Once your baby is born, my wife’s place goes back to Claire,” Ethan told Chloe. Chloe was far more intelligent than the women Ethan had brought home before. She never sent me taunting messages. She never called to show off that Ethan was beside her. She always seemed innocent and fragile, which made Ethan constantly worry that I would bully her. I had seen women younger, prettier, and far more brazen than Chloe. They were always too eager to drive me out. Only Chloe never fought openly. She moved into my home with a pregnant belly, calling me “Claire” in an affectionate tone, as though we were the best of friends. Still, I should have thanked her for making my decision easier. At one fifty that afternoon, I sat in the conference room of a family-law firm on Park Avenue. I called Ethan for the ninth time. He finally answered. “Where are you?” “I’m with Chloe at a prenatal appointment.” His voice was careless. “The doctor added a few tests at the last minute. I’ll come over when we’re finished.” “We agreed on two.” “The divorce papers aren’t going to grow legs and run away.” He spoke as though soothing an unreasonable child. “We’ll deal with it after Chloe’s appointment.” He hung up. Wait again. For years, I had always been waiting for him. Waiting for meetings to end. Waiting for him to come home from parties. Waiting for him to tire of some woman. Waiting for him to remember he still had a wife. I had cried before. I had made scenes. In the end, one impatient “stop making a fuss” from him was always enough to make me stay. But today, I no longer needed him to reward me by offering not to divorce me. The lawyer entered the conference room. “Mrs. Sterling, would you like to continue waiting for your husband?” I placed my phone facedown on the table. “No.” “Prepare the uncontested divorce filing. If he refuses to cooperate, we’ll proceed with litigation.” “I’ll send you all the financial documents tonight.” The lawyer nodded. “Understood.” For the first time, I realized that stopping the wait was not nearly as difficult as I had imagined.
Watch? https://cps-front.novelix.live/app-api/ext/new/202606199BAu0LQqjM ? Continue the story here ?? ? Download the "Novelix" app ? search for "ni285810", and watch the full series ✨! #Novelix