When Julian put his hands in his pants pockets and walked through the front door of the apartment, it was already past one o’clock in the morning.
He tiredly took off his Patek Philippe watch, sluggishly rubbing his temples.
Recalling the mess he had just finished dealing with at the conglomerate along with the deceitful attitude of his ex-girlfriend, he unconsciously frowned; on the sharp, angular face of the billionaire, a displeased look of disgust rarely appeared so clearly.
Opening the double doors and stepping into the master bedroom, the crystal chandelier was still brightly lit.
From inside the marble bathroom came the sound of the shower head spraying water.
Julian casually took off his custom-tailored suit jacket and draped it over a chair, reaching up to loosen the silk tie around his neck.
Right at this moment, the frosted glass bathroom door swung open.
Chloe, wearing a silk bathrobe, her slightly wet brown hair dripping water, stepped out.
Seeing Julian standing at the door, she froze slightly for a split second, then, without uttering a single word, walked around him heading straight for the King-size bed.
Julian raised his thick eyebrows; his sharp intuition told him that Chloe’s attitude today had something very unusual about it.
Since the two of them signed the marriage registration paper two years ago, she had never shown such an ignoring, cold attitude toward him.
“Did you have an urgent matter when you called me earlier?” Julian raised his voice to ask, his deep voice breaking the silence.
Chloe’s hand, which was pulling back the down blanket, slightly paused, but immediately after she pretended as if nothing happened: “Nothing important, just conveniently called to check in.” “I heard housekeeper Martha say you had to catch an Uber back just now, where is your Porsche?” “It broke down on the road.” Chloe sat down on the soft mattress, her attitude still maintaining an apathetic, emotionless look, clearly a type of silent protest not wanting to talk further.
The room sank into a long silence; Julian also did not continue pressing for more details.
This was inherently an unspoken boundary in their shared life: Chloe would never snoop around or question his schedule, and he also maintained the polite courtesy of not interrogating her.
Just as he unbuttoned his white shirt, preparing to step into the bathroom, the corner of his eye accidentally caught a glimpse of the crystal shards of the Baccarat vase scattered on the wool carpet covering the floor.
He looked up at Chloe, who was lying with her back turned and eyes closed, pondered deeply for a moment, and ultimately still silently bent down to squat and pick up the sharp fragments.
“I didn’t like it.” Julian was holding the sharp crystal shards compactly in the palm of his hand, while Chloe, not knowing since when, had propped herself up from the pillow.
The lapel of the expensive silk bathrobe gaped slightly open in a careless manner, revealing an alluring patch of bare shoulder and collarbone against snow-white skin.
The man’s gaze momentarily darkened slightly, carrying a trace of suppressed desire.
Seeing Julian remain silent and not reacting, Chloe firmly believed that he was feeling annoyed in his heart.
After all, that crystal vase had been placed as a decor piece in that spot for a very long time; at least since she moved in to live together, it had rested peacefully there, no one daring to touch or move it.
Without knowing when, she had accidentally overheard the two maids in the house gossiping with each other, recounting that Serena – the prestigious ex-girlfriend of the billionaire – was deeply passionate about the art of Ikebana flower arrangement, and many decorative items in this penthouse were personally selected and purchased by that lady.
Because of that bitterness, she deliberately raised her voice, clearly enunciating every word: “I didn’t like that vase anymore.” Seeing Julian still keeping a cold facial expression without showing the slightest reaction, she continued to add: “Seeing it was an eyesore to me, so I smashed it.” *I have smashed the love token between the two of you, how do you plan to make a scene out of it?* The man silently turned around and threw the pile of glass shards in his hand into the stainless steel trash can, only then slowly speaking up: “If it’s not pleasing to your eyes then just change to another model, but having smashed it, why didn’t you call Martha up to clean it?” His tone carried a bit of an underlying reproachful implication.
It was merely because he was worried about the tiny glass fragments hiding within the carpet’s fur; Chloe had a habit of walking barefoot when at home, what if she accidentally stepped on them and bled?
However, these dry words of concern, falling into the ears of a jealous woman like Chloe, were twisted into him feeling distressed and regretting the loss of that sentimental item.
Her white teeth biting tightly on her lower lip, she exploded with a bit of a tantrum: “Any piece of furniture in this bedroom, I find loathsome and dislike it anymore!” Just having let out the provocative words, following her habit of keeping the peace, she felt a bit of regret.
Was she being controlled by her emotions, causing an unreasonable and excessive scene?
But she immediately brushed that thought off, sitting up straight with her chest pushed out, winding herself up to build momentum for herself.
This afternoon at the studio, she had already overthought very thoroughly; Harper was blunt, but every sentence she spoke hit the nail on the head.
There are investments that are wrong right from the seed round, so one must know how to cut losses and stop at the right time; she thought she herself was a modern, financially independent woman, she was more than capable of doing that.
“As you please.” Julian coldly dropped a careless sentence, then turned on his heels and stepped straight into the bathroom.
Chloe choked, so angry that she glared fixedly at the bathroom door that had just closed.
So he was truly angry now, wasn’t he?
Casting her gaze around the massive bedroom, her look ultimately stopped at the silver-framed wedding photo at the head of the bed.
The bride smiled radiantly with happiness, while the groom’s face was as cold as a vampire…
When Julian wrapped a towel around himself and stepped out, Chloe had already fallen into a deep sleep.
Her breathing rose and fell evenly, her small face reflecting under the nightlight was still very pale white, but not the healthy rosy kind, rather slightly sallow.
He tiptoed onto the bed, reaching his sturdy arms to completely embrace the woman from behind.
Her soft, somewhat fragile body perfectly fell into and fit snugly within his embrace; Julian instantly felt his chest become even tighter from suppression.
He let out an unnoticeable, long sigh, silently lamenting in his heart that the freezing cold shower from earlier was essentially considered poured down the river and out to sea.
Yet he could not bear to let go of the soft, embracing feeling in his arms.
Gently placing a kiss on Chloe’s fragrant hair, he closed his eyes to coax himself to sleep.
— “I am done eating.” Accompanied by the light clinking sound of the silver knife and fork against the porcelain plate, Chloe casually dropped a curt sentence, then pushed her chair, stood up, and walked upstairs.
Julian held his half-used fork in his hand, his thick eyebrows unconsciously furrowing tightly.
Ever since that rainy night, his perfect wife had suddenly become incredibly unusual!
Although he was inherently a dry man not good at reading women’s emotions, over the past few days he had brought the situation out to analyze it like a financial report; roughly, probably, seemingly, he was being hit with the “silent treatment,” right?
But ultimately, what was the reason?
Julian felt completely bewildered as if solving a math problem with no given data.
Trying to brainstorm and think, he could only string all the events together starting from Chloe’s missed call on the night of the pouring rain.
The next morning, he asked Housekeeper Martha again and only then learned that Chloe, upon returning home, had to borrow a phone to call the technical support department of Porsche, saying her car broke down on a suburban branch road, asking them to send a tow truck to bring it back to the garage for her the next morning.
Then he remembered again that on that night, the weather in New York whipped up a storm with heavy rain; when Chloe pushed the door to enter the house, her hair and clothes were still soaking wet.
So for the past few days, in her heart, his wife had been silently condemning and blaming her husband—him—for being heartless and neglectful, not being present at the moment she needed a “knight saving the beauty” the most?
Julian felt like he had just found the solution to the equation of Chloe’s bizarre attitude over the past few days; his eyebrows also gradually relaxed comfortably.
Indeed, as a husband, he had not fulfilled his responsibilities.
Trying to use Empathy to put himself in that situation, he could completely understand how terrified and panicked his little wife must have been in a desolate place, moreover during a pouring dark night.
Even though over the phone at that time, Chloe appeared strong and said nothing, logically, with the sharpness of a CEO, he should have read her hesitation of wanting to speak up for help but stopping.
At that time, he only felt her voice was slightly trembling but was too busy so he did not press further.
Ultimately, over the past years, Chloe had played the role of a wife who was far too gentle, obedient, and understanding.
Thinking back, this was the first time she had revealed true feelings of anger and a tantrum since getting married.
Thinking to this point, Julian again felt a feeling of joy and strange amusement welling up in his heart.
Having pinpointed the core “pain point” of the issue, just as he was about to push his chair and stand up to go upstairs, he clumsily froze and stood in a daze right there.
His wife was always overly empathetic, reasonable, and elegant, leading to a man who buried his head in data all day, completely lacking experience in coaxing women like him, not knowing how to handle the situation smoothly.
Like…
his wife is angry, should he buy an Hermes bag or limited edition jewelry to coax her?
Who should he call for help now, it’s too urgent!
While Julian was standing dumbfounded, scratching his head and tearing his hair out trying to calculate a strategy, Chloe had changed her clothes, applied impeccable makeup, picked up her handbag, and walked downstairs.
Glancing at the man who was still rooted to the dining table, she felt a bit strange.
Working hours on Wall Street were always harsh; normally at this hour, he should be sitting in the Maybach heading to the conglomerate already…
Of course, it was only a fleeting, small wonder; Chloe absolutely had no intention of starting a conversation to break the cold atmosphere with Julian.
These past few days she had used logical thinking to consider very rationally: Since it was a mistaken marriage right from the beginning, it was best to “finalize” the divorce procedures early!
But then again, deep down Chloe more or less felt remorseful and guilty.
If initially, her family hadn’t taken advantage of the Quinn family encountering a crisis to propose a merger of interests agreement, then the two of them wouldn’t have been forced to be tied to each other by such a coerced marriage registration paper.
With Julian’s outstanding executive ability, the Quinn Group sooner or later would have still found another investment fund and emerged safe and sound.
After that, Serena returning from studying abroad, the talented man and beautiful woman passionately reuniting; wouldn’t that be a happy ending carrying a typical Cinderella motif?
The truth was clearly that she was the legal wife, but Chloe was always tormented by imposter syndrome, feeling she was a brazen third party using money to steal someone else’s happiness.
When she first discovered Serena had returned to New York, Chloe was both blazing with anger and terrified with insecurity.
When she witnessed the two of them working together, interacting intimately and closely at the eatery, she was even more jealous to the point of going crazy and wanting to explode.
But these past few days locking herself in her room to calm her mind and think, she again clearly saw the cruel reality.
The relationship between her and Julian, spoken of euphemistically, was a strategic marriage; spoken bluntly, it was an economic interest exchange contract reeking of money; Julian fundamentally did not have the slightest bit of romantic love for her.
Instead of continuously lingering and getting entangled, causing all three people to be exhausted, it would be better for her to proactively file for divorce and release each other early!
She was also intentionally establishing boundaries to create distance from Julian.
Having made up her mind, she absolutely must not be soft-hearted and give herself the chance to regret and turn back!
Chloe understood all too well her husband’s deadly Alpha charm; she was only afraid that if she got too close and smelled his scent, she would foolishly fall into the love trap again and lose all her rationality.
Later, she also planned to drive back to her family’s estate to have a serious discussion with her parents about a divorce lawyer.
Come to think of it, in this business deal, her family’s conglomerate was still the side that enjoyed massive profits.
Over the past two years, riding on Quinn’s growth momentum, the capital poured in initially had multiplied in profit by who knows how many times.
Moreover, Julian was a gentleman, doing business fairly rather than being a petty person holding grudges; even if the two signed the divorce papers and went their separate ways, the amicable B2B partnership between the two conglomerates certainly would not be chipped at all.
Firmly believing that her parents, being practical businesspeople, would not oppose this decision, Chloe received the Trench coat and car keys that Housekeeper Martha handed to her, proudly preparing to step out the door.
“Where are you preparing to go?” From behind her back suddenly rang out a warm, deep, magnetic male voice asking.
The bunch of car keys in Chloe’s hand, due to her being startled, was not held securely and fell to the wooden floor with a “clack.” Biting her lip in resignation and bending down to pick it up, she felt her luxurious, haughty image collapse incredibly disgracefully.
Damn it, right at this boiling hot moment, she still foolishly felt that Julian’s voice was truly incredibly seductive, making her want to melt.
“Going back to visit my parents’ home.” Chloe tried to keep her voice cold, not bothering to turn her head back, tossing back a curt sentence.
Not hearing any further movement or response from behind her back, she tried to swallow the disappointment spreading in her heart, pushing the door and stepping out onto the porch.
In the parking area, a black armored SUV was parked and waiting with its engine running.
It was actually the trusted driver from the main house whom she had bothered the other day when calling for rescue.
Mother Eleanor, knowing that Chloe’s Porsche sports car had to be sent to the garage for a major maintenance overhaul, had particularly and thoughtfully dispatched a private driver over here to serve her.
Thinking of her mother-in-law Eleanor, Chloe’s mood became even more tangled and complex.
That woman truly treated her too well.
After that, she raised her own hand to pat her cheeks to wake herself up, stepped up to open the back row door, and comforted herself: *It will be fine, even if I divorce Julian, Eleanor will always be a wonderful, respectable elder to me…*