Chapter 155 I Don't Want You Anymore
Harper saw who it was and immediately looked displeased. She pretended not to see him and headed upstairs.
The man blocked her way with hands in his pockets like a statue.
"Who just brought you back?" Francis asked with a displeased expression.
"None of your business," Harper replied coldly.
Francis was taken aback but, considering she was still angry, changed the question.
"Why did you move?"
Harper found his question ridiculous and tried to bypass him to go upstairs.
The man, however, grabbed her wrist. His tone seemed to suppress something, but it was still unfriendly as he said, "We need to talk."
Harper stiffened at his touch and recalled memories from the previous night.
She distanced herself and resisted. "Let go of me."
Francis felt a pang in his chest but released her hand, still blocking her way upstairs.
He said in a low voice, "Harper, you can move, but couldn’t you at least tell me?"
"Why?"
Harper found it absurd and was annoyed that he could see her no matter where she moved.
She took out her phone, opened the photo album, and shoved it in Francis's face. She was mocking as she said, "Mr. Getty, could you recognize the divorce certificate?"
Instantly, Francis' face turned sour.
Who would have thought she had taken a photo of the divorce certificate and saved it on her phone to remind him at any time?
This act was somewhat ruthless.
Francis felt a sharp pain in his chest and looked at her. "Harper, don't be like this."
"If you don’t be like this," Harper said in a formal tone, which increased the sense of distance.
"We are already divorced. I'd like to know why you are still doing this. Is it for fun? Or is Getty Group going bankrupt, and you're so free?"
Francis was rendered speechless by her retort, and he opened his mouth but was unable to say anything.
Harper turned to go upstairs, and Francis followed her closely.
Harper stopped and glared at him. "You are not allowed to follow me."
Francis just looked at her and was determined.
The elevator door opened, and Harper stepped inside. Her eyes met the man's narrow eyes, giving him a warning look.
"If you follow me again, I'll call the police."
Then, without hesitation, she pressed the close button.
Just as the elevator door was about to close completely, a distinct hand reached in and reopened the door.
Francis' handsome face was covered in frost as he stepped in. Before Harper could speak, he cupped her face, pressed her against the elevator wall, and kissed her.
Her lips were soft, and Francis' hands tightly gripped her overly slender waist. Fearing the cold elevator would hurt her, he supported her back with his hands to create a slight gap between her and the elevator wall.
This also forced her to tilt her face up, which made it easier for him to deepen the kiss.
Harper tried to dodge but failed, so she trembled several times under his kiss.
The elevator door suddenly opened.
Outside was Whitney Hearst, who averted her eyes upon seeing them and muttered, "Young couple, can't you get a room? There's a camera in the elevator, you know."
Harper suddenly snapped back to reality and pushed him, finally relieving the pressure on her lips.
Their eyes met, and Francis' lips curled up with a lingering taste of satisfaction. He tightened his arms around her and pressed her against himself.
"Your lips, your body, they remember me," he stated confidently.
"What does that prove?" Harper's breath was still unsteady, and she was furious.
But his strength was overwhelming, and he held her too tightly. She could only press her palms against his chest and tried to stay calm.
"You still love me," Francis asserted.
"Francis, I don't love you anymore."
"Then let me love you. Let me love you," he said and held her more tightly. His head rested against her neck, nuzzling her.
"Harper, give me another chance. Don't be so heartless." Francis' tone had a hint of pleading.
Proud as he was, he had lowered his head in this endless torment.
Harper's eyes welled up, not with emotion, but with a sense of self-pity.
She had finally heard these words but at the cost of their baby's life.
God knew how much she had longed for that child, to see the baby born and hear its first words.
But all of that would never happen.
"It is too late."
She would never love him again nor give him any chance.
Besides, did he really love her?
Born as a favored child of heaven, did he even know what love was?
In what he thought was love, there was probably more unwillingness.
Because the divorce was her plan and because she was the one who stopped loving him...
"It's not too late. As long as you give me a chance, it will never be too late."
Harper's lips curled without any emotion as she said, "Francis, do you enjoy being despised? I don't love you, and I won't give you another chance."
Only a fool would repeat the same mistake. She wouldn't fall into that trap again.
And that would only give him another chance to hurt her, wouldn’t it?
That kind of heart-wrenching pain was enough for once.
She never wanted to experience it again in her life.
Francis listened to her indifferent tone, and his heart felt heavy. He gripped her shoulders and looked at her intently.
"Harper, I won't allow it."
He wouldn't allow her not to love him. Absolutely not.
Harper was exhausted from his entanglement, and even her posture relaxed a bit.
"Mr. Getty, this is really pointless. Divorce means we don't interfere with each other anymore and live our own lives. With your status, women would come to you. Why?"
"I don't want another woman."
The veins on the back of Francis' hands bulged as he stared intently at Harper and tried to find any trace of past feelings in her eyes.
But they were devoid of anything.
His heart began to ache again as if an ice pick was chiseling away at it.
He felt like he was on the verge of going mad. If it were not for a shred of remaining sanity, he might have really imprisoned her.
He opened his mouth, and his voice was rough but firm as he said, "I only want you!"
Harper looked at him and laughed mockingly, "But I don't want you."
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