Chapter 295
Henry struggled to keep hold of my hand, his face filled with desperation.
“Sophia, why are you so determined to divorce me?” he pleaded, his voice hoarse yet urgent. “You know I was drugged! You were drugged too! That wasn’t my doing.”
I took advantage of his struggle to sit up in the hospital bed and pulled my hand away, stepping back to create distance between us.
My expression remained cold, completely unmoved by his pleading.
“You can claim the drug wasn’t yours, that you were drugged too,” I said with detachment. “But the fact remains–you carried out the criminal act. My body contains your DNA, and your fingerprints are all over me.”
I paused briefly, then added: “And that little bottle has your fingerprints on it too. If I insist to the police that you deliberately drugged and assaulted me, you’ll have no way to explain yourself.”
Henry’s face immediately darkened as he realized he was completely at my mercy.
Though I didn’t want the Harding family to suffer further damage, that was an entirely separate issue from my desire for divorce.
The two couldn’t be conflated.
I was willing to step up during the family’s time of crisis–providing Richard with evidence to clear the company’s name, helping care for William, even temporarily looking after Henry.
But none of that meant I still loved Henry or wanted to remain in this marriage.
Everyone thought I was being unreasonable, but only I knew that my determination to divorce wasn’t simply because Henry didn’t love me.
Love means giving without expecting anything in return. Henry’s repeated coldness and cruelty had completely extinguished my ability to love–perhaps not just him, but anyone at all.
That’s why ending this relationship was my only choice.
The light in Henry’s eyes gradually dimmed as he lay back on the hospital bed, staring vacantly at the ceiling.
“Sophia,” he said softly, “I know I’ve done many terrible things in the past. I hurt you, made you unhappy. I truly
understand my mistakes now. Please, can’t you give me one more chance?”
Henry couldn’t help thinking: What a cold–hearted woman. He had humbled himself to the point of begging, yet he
couldn’t even get her to look him in the eye.
“Divorce or jail,” I replied flatly. “Please consider your choice carefully, Mr. Harding.
I turned to leave, but Henry called after me.
‘Sophia! Can’t we at least wait until I’m discharged to discuss this?” His voice took on a fragile, self–pitying tone. ‘If I just died here in this hospital bed, I’d be spared from making such a cruel decision.”
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These emotional tactics had long ceased to work on me?
“Mr. Harding need not be troubled by such concerns,” I replied coldly. “The doctor has assured us you won t dhe Aler you’re discharged, I’ll come as agreed to finalize our divorce. I hope Mr. Harding won’t go back on his word
I walked out of the room with confidence, never looking back.
Behind me, Henry lay in his bed like an abandoned toy.
What should have been a festive holiday had turned into a nightmare for the Harding family.
When Grace returned home to find the mansion empty and in complete disarray, her emotions oscillated between grief and fury.
“Isabella!” she cursed into the empty air. “You turned out to be this kind of woman? I never should have been friends with
you!”
Now her grandfather and brother were hospitalized, and even her mother was implicated. Grace’s anger intensified with each passing moment. After learning that her mother and Isabella were being held in the basement, she rushed there immediately.
When she pushed open the door and saw more than a dozen security guards stationed outside, the reality finally hit her: whatever had existed between her brother and Isabella was permanently over.
Grace circled around to the barred window of the makeshift prison. The security guards immediately noticed the
movement.
“Who’s there?” one of them shouted.
Hearing the commotion, Isabella rushed to the window. “Grace? Is that you?”
Seeing Grace, Isabella pressed her face against the bars, her voice urgent: “Grace, quickly, get us some documents!”
Grace felt disgusted. This woman she had once admired now made her sick. She had no intention of responding and
remained silent.
Richard had given the security team strict orders, and the guards quickly moved to chase Grace away.
Seeing no response from Grace, Catherine hurried to the window: “Grace, is that you? Come here, let Mother see you properly.”
Just one night in the basement felt like a century to the privileged Catherine. All her aristocratic elegance had been stripped away, leaving only a disheveled woman. Now she could only hope her daughter would help her escape. Seeing her usually loving mother in such a pitiful state, Grace’s eyes quickly welled with tears.
“Mom, are you okay?” she asked, her voice trembling.
Catherine seized this opportunity: “Grace, you must go to my room. Under my makeup table document. Take it and give it to your brother. Only then can I possibly get out of here.*
This was exactly what Isabella had been trying to say earlier.
e’s a drawer containing a
Grace was confused. “Mom, Henry is sick right now. How could he have the energy to look at documents? Can’t you wait
Chapter 295
until he’s discharged and give it to him yourself? Besides, surely you won’t be kept here forever Das soubor heartless!”
Catherine gave a bitter smile, her hands gripping the iron bars, her eyes filled with desolation.
“Grace, listen to your mother. Do as I say. Take that document to your brother. Once he sees it, I’ll be released. Vote Hear
trust me.”
The guards‘ footsteps drew closer. Seeing her daughter still hesitating, Catherine reached through the bars and pinched Grace’s arm hard, making her cry out in pain.
“Did you understand me?” she demanded harshly.
Grace nodded dumbly and ran off.
Catherine shouted after her retreating figure: “Second drawer under the vanity table!”
The security guards watched the younger Harding daughter flee but made no move to follow her.
Their orders were simply to guard Catherine and Isabella, with no need to offend a member of the Harding family.
After Grace left, Isabella’s eyes filled with barely contained excitement. Her heart pounded violently. She covered her chest with both hands to steady herself, looking expectantly at Catherine.
“Mom, if we succeed this time, I promise I’ll take good care of you once we’re out.”
Catherine shared her anticipation, her eyes gleaming with hope.
“Isabella, don’t worry. What’s yours will eventually be yours,”
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