Chapter 6
As the Mid-Autumn Festival approached, Lucas suggested accompanying me back to the Chen family.
He said, “Sherry, you’ve been too tired lately. It’s a good chance to relax with family.”
I had no opinion.
As for the Chen family, perhaps they couldn’t be called family.
Since I was found and brought back to the Chen family, they continued to favor the fake heiress Tara.
Giving her company shares, letting her inherit the family business.
Even when I once stood in the snow trying to get their attention, catching a cold with a 39°C fever, they only said:
“So troublesome, not obedient like Tara at all.”
It wasn’t until I married Lucas that they started paying me a little attention, for the sake of cooperating with the Lu family.
The car stopped in the Chen family courtyard.
Today seemed to be a party hosted by the Chens, with people coming and going.
Just as I got out of the car, the Chen family’s housekeeper called me away. “Miss, Madam is looking for you.”
Lucas said: “Go ahead, I’ll wait for you.”
The housekeeper led me through the crowd into the study.
A stack of papers flew at my face, hitting the ground.
The paper edges cut my face like blades, stinging with pain.
Mother pointed at me. “Sherry Chen, you dare to divorce?”
The papers that fell to the ground were clearly a divorce agreement.
It was what I had asked a lawyer to print a few days ago, originally kept in a drawer at home.
Mrs. Chen glared at me, her tone contemptuous.
“A woman who can’t keep her husband in check is useless.”
“Anyway, don’t even think about divorce!”
Over the years, everyone knew.
The Chen family had leveraged this in-law relationship with the Lu family to do a lot of business.
I gently closed my eyes. “What if I insist?”
“Then you’ll be the enemy of both the Chen and Lu families.” Mother sneered.
I turned to leave.
Walking to the end of the long corridor, Lucas was leaning against a pillar smoking. A wisp of white smoke lingered hazily in front of his cold features.
The trees swayed, quiet enough to hear the wind.
Our eyes met, and he spoke first.
“Sherry, don’t blame me. I love you too much.”
His fingertips brushed over the wound on my face, his voice pained. “You’re so good, how could I let you go?”
I shrank my fingers, avoiding his hand.
“I hope you can keep watching me forever.”
He smiled indulgently, as if looking at a harmless kitten.
When the cigarette burned out, he acted as if nothing had happened, taking my hand and walking out.