Chapter 2
Julian returned the next day around noon, bringing Tiffany along.
The staff were all discussing it:
“The young master has so many women outside, but this is the first time he’s brought one home.”
“Looks like the Lady Harrington position is about to change hands.”
They never bothered to hide their discussions from me, nor did they ever show me the respect I deserved.
Tiffany overheard their words and shot me a challenging look across the room.
It was as if she was saying, ‘You can’t even control the staff, how could you ever hope to keep Julian’s heart? The position of Lady Harrington will definitely be mine!’
I pursed my lips, a soft laugh escaping my nostrils involuntarily.
How to keep Julian’s heart?
His heart was as hard as stone; no matter how sincerely I treated him, it wouldn’t stir him in the slightest.
He’d even think I was trying to flatter him or grab his attention.
It would only make him despise me more.
Julian pulled out a chair at the dining table and said, “Get me a glass of water.”
The staff didn’t budge. For five years, they’d silently agreed that serving Julian was my job.
Just a little longer, I told myself. Five more days, and I’d be free.
I picked a clean glass and poured him some water, handing it to him.
He frowned slightly, took a sip, and set it down.
“Are you trying to scald me with this temperature?”
“I only drink water at 55 degrees. You’ve never messed up before. What’s wrong today?”
Before he could finish, I reached for the glass, but he pressed my hand down.
“New tactics now? Trying to provoke me, get my attention?”
“Are you jealous?”
I calmly met his cold gaze, speaking with detached composure.
“I forgot.”
A flicker of surprise crossed his face at my reaction.
After all, I used to be obedient to his every word, quick to explain if I fell short.
My indifference today piqued his suspicion.
But he said nothing more.
At the dinner table, he proposed that I retire. The Harrington family’s club was planning to sign Tiffany.
He wanted me to coach her.
I had thought that by winning the Grand Slam and making my name known worldwide,
Providing free advertising for the Harrington brand, and helping Julian expand his business empire,
That would be enough.
Now, even my life after retirement—was that to be invaded and exploited too?
It turns out that in his eyes, I had always been an inexhaustible, free resource.
“My contract with the Harrington family is almost up. As for a club coach, I can recommend someone to you.”
Thinking back, this was the first time I had ever refused Julian’s demand.
As I expected, he flew into a rage.
“So, you think your wings have grown strong enough to leave the Harrington family, huh, Skylar Xu? I’m telling you, don’t even think about it!”
“You would never have achieved what you have today without the Harrington family!”
With that, he abruptly stood up and went upstairs with Tiffany.
I silently bowed my head, picking at my rice, tears steadily falling into it.
He wasn’t wrong, but my contributions to the Harrington family over the years had long exceeded the amount of their sponsorship.
I wanted to leave. I wanted my own life, my own plans.
To no longer be a puppet subservient to the Harrington family.
Heading upstairs to pack my bags, I passed Julian’s door and heard quite a commotion inside.
“Julian, please divorce Skylar, okay?”
“Anything she can give you, I can give you too. Anything she can’t, I have it all.”
“Touch my skin, isn’t it softer and firmer than hers?”
If I had known it was going to be such a disgusting conversation, I would never have stopped.
Just as I was about to leave, Julian’s sharp voice cut through the air.
“I will not divorce her! Get rid of those inappropriate thoughts of yours.”
“Do your job, become the next Skylar Xu, and don’t waste my investment in you.”
Why wouldn’t he divorce me?
There was no love left between us, only hatred.
Perhaps this was his revenge, for me occupying Celeste’s place.
To bind me in this marriage and torture me for the rest of my life.
At that thought, my head felt like it was splitting open, the pain radiating from my scalp to the tip of my nose, half my face going numb.
I lay rigidly on the bed, taking half an hour to recover.
When the pain finally subsided, the blank space in my brain, that missing memory, began to expand.
I felt like I had forgotten something, but I just couldn’t recall what.
The following days, I was busy with preparations to go abroad. As the contract still had a few days left,
I had to follow Julian’s instructions, spending my free time training Tiffany.
The day I received my passport, I was called to the training rink.
Tiffany, wearing my competition outfit, paraded in front of me, tossing her head as she said,
“Julian said your support team and costume designers are all mine now.”
I just softly said, “Oh.”
Suddenly, she lay down on the ground, placing her arm near my skate, and with her other hand, grabbed my clothes.
I momentarily lost my balance, and the tip of my blade carved a shocking gash on her arm.
“Skylar Xu!”
Julian strode quickly towards us, roughly pushing me to the ground. He bent down, picked Tiffany up, and placed her on the mat.
Then he told someone to call the team doctor and dragged me into an empty changing room.
“Are you insane! If you want to hurt someone, can’t you find a place without cameras?”
“If this gets out, accusing you of bullying a teammate and intentional injury, what about your reputation? What about the Harrington family’s standing?”
His actions lately, I understood them less and less.
His words contained no reproach for me harming his new favorite; instead, he seemed to be considering my welfare.
I was about to reply when he bent down and picked up a piece of paper from behind me.
“What is this?”
He leaned closer to read it.
“An offer from Team E?”
My heart instantly clenched, sweat breaking out on my palms. I took a steady breath, then calmly pulled the offer letter from his hand.
“Didn’t I say I’d recommend a coach last time? Many people want to join Harrington Sports, so I had them submit their resumes for screening.”
His expression visibly relaxed, then turned stern again.
“When did I agree to let you leave?”
“Here’s the new contract, another ten years.”
He tossed a stack of documents into my lap.
I pretended to agree, but secretly, I deliberately misspelled my name on the contract, like random scribbles.
I also slipped a divorce agreement among the papers, watching him sign them all.
The huge weight on my heart finally lifted.