Chapter 12
Harper was caught off guard by the question. 'He's the one who asked me to sign the divorce papers,' she was puzzled.
Before she could respond, Francis had already straightened up, his voice deep and authoritative, "Don't forget dinner tonight at the ancestral home."
As he stepped through the door, Harper called out after him.
"Mr. Getty."
When Francis heard her voice, he frowned and came to a halt. Then he saw her ask with a strictly businesslike expression, "What about next Monday?"
Francis's eyelids twitched heavily again.
'I must have been crazy to stop,' he mused.
"As you wish," he replied tersely and forcefully shut the door to his office.
Harper felt a twinge of pain along with a sense of relief at his definitive answer. Having decided to let go, she wished it to happen sooner rather than later.
'Once the divorce is final, I don't have to face him all the time.
No matter how long it took...
A year, two years, three years, or even a decade, I'll heal herself and gradually forget him.'
...
It was six o'clock.
The driver arrived on time to take Harper to the Getty Family’s old Estate. Located in Westerlyn, where property was pricey, the huge gardens were well-kept.
What Harper would miss most in this marriage was Dylan Getty, Francis's grandfather. Unlike the typical elitist aristocrats, Dylan had an enlightened mind, devoid of classist views, and took a particular liking to the simple and unassuming Harper.
After Dylan fell ill, Francis told him of his intentions to marry Harper, and miraculously, his health improved, growing even more robust over the years.
The thought of not being able to see Dylan as often after the divorce weighed heavily on Harper's heart.
Inside the hall, the household manager asked Harper to wait momentarily as Dylan was occupied with guests.
Feeling unusually fatigued lately and wondering if it might be due to pregnancy, Harper decided to head to a side parlor for some peace and quiet. But, as fate would have it, she'd barely taken a step when a mocking voice cut through the air from behind her.
"No wonder it stinks in here!" Amelia approached, her voice dripping with disdain.
Her mother, knowing she had crossed Francis, brought her here today to curry favor with Dylan. Dylan's words held sway over everything for Francis. Her mother, fearful of Amelia speaking out of turn, didn't allow her upstairs but had not anticipated running into Harper.
Amelia sauntered up to Harper, chin lifted, and sneered, "Are you here to brown-nose Dylan again? Even a stray dog isn't as off-putting as you."
It was said that Dylan was particularly fond of Harper, more so than any of his relatives.
Amelia was filled with contempt.
Amelia regarded Harper as nothing more than a plaything who thought sucking up to Dylan would grant her any real standing. 'That's just her wishful thinking,' Amelia thought.
As she entertained these thoughts, Amelia suddenly smirked smugly, "Do you know where Francis is now? I just heard from Chloe that he was on his way to meet her. If I were you, I'd run away with my tail between my legs now that Chloe is back. Are you sticking around just to embarrass yourself further?"
As a woman, Amelia knew exactly where to strike where it hurt the most.
Sure enough, Harper's expression wavered.
"But I must say, it's not often someone plays the role of the other woman with such brazen confidence!"
Amelia's words grew more self-satisfied as she leaned in close to Harper's ear and sneered, "Wake up! You're nothing more than a fling, a fleeting amusement. Do you really think you can go from a nobody to the lady of the house? Dream on."
Harper was already feeling down that day, and Amelia's relentless chatter was grating on her nerves. She didn't bother to mask her irritation and instead retorted while smiling, "Who cares if I'm fit for the role or not? As long as you call Francis' brother,' you'll have to call me 'sister-in-law.'"
"What are you babbling about?" Amelia shrieked, taken aback.
'Sister-in-law? What nonsense is this crazy woman spouting now?'
Seeing the frantic look on Amelia's face. Lifted Harper's spirits.
She answered with an inscrutable smile, "Exactly what you heard."
'Not many people were privy to our secret marriage, but Francis's close buddies knew, as did Chloe—who, interestingly, hadn't shared that with Amelia.
Amelia reveres Chloe, yet it's clear she wasn't viewed as significant in Chloe's eyes,' Harper realized.
"What kind of joke is this? Are you daydreaming?" Amelia's taunts continued. "With your plain look, anyone marrying you would be the laughingstock of the town. Save the 'Mrs. Getty's fantasy for your next life!"
"Francis would only ever marry Chloe. He adores her. He'll never settle for a penniless nobody like you!"
"You're delusional. Better take your meds, you silly woman!"
Amelia's tirade built up like a chain of explosions, one after the other.
The more agitated she became, the calmer Harper remained, though a crease of concern crossed her forehead at the thought that this was hardly the ideal prenatal influence.
Just then, security guards, hearing the commotion from outside, rushed in and respectfully inquired about the disturbance.
Amelia snapped at them, "Aren't you going to throw this trashy woman out?"
Harper, a regular patron who visited monthly for meals with Dylan, and Amelia, a relative of the prestigious Getty family and an esteemed guest, had both positioned the security team in a difficult spot. They were uncertain of how to proceed.
The guard's hesitation only served to infuriate Amelia further. She barked venomously, "What kind of watchdogs are you? How could you let this low-life in? If you don't throw her out this instant, I'll go straight to Dylan and have you all fired!"
Being called dogs, the security guards' faces twisted in visible offense.
Yet, Amelia was Dylan's relative, someone they dared not cross.
Harper hadn't expected Amelia to stoop so low and furrowed her brows in disapproval.
"Amelia, don't you take it too far. There's no high or low in honest work. Being wealthy doesn't make you better than anyone else, nor does it give you the right to insult others!"
Amelia looked down at Harper, her tone dripping with scorn. "And what if I do? Just to make things clear, this is the Getty family, and I happen to be a bona fide relative. I'll say what I want to whomever I want. If you don't like it, there's the door!"
Harper found Amelia's attitude utterly unreasonable and retorted icily, "Those security guards didn't do anything wrong. They are working hard to earn an honest living, and you have no right to belittle them."
Harper’s eyes were firm and unwavering, neither submissive nor proud. It reminded Amelia of their last meeting during the audit, where Harper had the same determined look, refusing to accept any excuses.
Feeling both guilty and provoked, Amelia snatched up a juice that was sitting nearby and flung it at Harper.
Caught off guard, Harper was doused with the drink. Her light-colored suit clung to her body, making the stain all the more conspicuous.
Amelia sneered with delight at Harper's disheveled appearance. "Who do you think you are? Dylan took pity on you, a nobody, and now you think you're in charge? How dare you meddle in my affairs!"
Amelia raised her hand to strike Harper just as a stern voice interjected, "Enough!"
Francis approached. An air of cool detachment about him seemed to chill Amelia to the core.
But then she thought, 'Why should I panic? I haven't done anything wrong. It's that wretched liar who's at fault.'
"Francis, you're just in time. This lowlife has been besmirching your good name, and I was teaching her a lesson for you!"
Francis glanced at Amelia, his handsome face expressing distinct displeasure.
Amelia didn't sense his distaste. When she saw him stride past her toward Harper, she expected him to scold Harper. "Francis, this wretch even had the nerve to claim to be your wife. She's clearly lost her mind. Keeping such a lunatic in the company is far too dangerous. You should fire her right away."
Upon hearing this, Francis paused. 'My wife?'
The corners of his mouth curled into a faint smile, and the frustration that had accumulated throughout the afternoon seemed to dissipate.
"Harper," he asked with teasing eyes, "is that what you said?"
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