Chapter 39
Chloe felt a sudden panic under his scrutinizing gaze.
She had learned the truth from a housemaid at the family estate, who had been bribed by Xenia. It was a secret she couldn't disclose.
"Chloe, I don't take it kindly to be lied to."
Seeing her silent, Francis moved closer, his piercing eyes warning her.
"Francis, do you doubt me?" Chloe couldn't finish her sentence before large teardrops began to fall, feigning sadness.
"How would I know? I guessed, of course. You're so good to your grandfather. You wouldn't want to upset him!"
Francis regarded her coldly, showing no sign of sympathy.
Chloe knew he was not quite convinced. Angered, without a second thought, she blurted out, "Francis, have you fallen for her? Is that why you don't want the divorce?"
Francis's brow furrowed deeply. The subject had been broached repeatedly today.
Had he fallen for Harper?
Impossible. He didn't fall in love. Not with anyone.
Yet in his mind was the image of the girl with eyes brimming with tears, her tears seemingly piercing his heart.
He realized he couldn't announce that he didn't love her.
Overwhelmed with anger and despair, Chloe perceived his silence as an admission.
Just as she was about to question him further, Xenia entered from outside, gently tugging at her clothes and softly shaking her head. She signaled Chloe to leave the confrontation unresolved.
Xenia's sobs were dramatically over the top as she exclaimed, "Miss, the doctor just told you to stay calm. Are you trying to kill yourself?!"
Chloe got the message and immediately embraced Xenia, both of them sobbing uncontrollably.
Their display of raw emotion made Francis remember that Chloe was still unwell, and his imposing aura deflated instantly.
He spoke with restraint, "Chloe, think carefully about whether you truly want to marry me. You know, all I can offer you is the title of Mrs. Getty. I told you this before you left the country, and it remains true. I want you to be happy, not trapped in a marriage of resentment."
Francis's words struck like a bolt from the blue, slicing through Chloe's heart.
After a drunken attempt to seduce him, she left the country, believing he wouldn't resist once she was naked. However, Francis ignored her completely, making it clear he would never touch her.
He could show her kindness but would never seek more.
Prideful Chloe couldn't bear the rejection and flew away the next day, thinking he would come after her. Instead, she was met with news of his whirlwind marriage.
Now, history seemed to repeat itself, but this time, she was determined to hold on to Francis.
She wanted the prestige of being Mrs. Getty, but she also wanted his heart!
Watching Francis turn to leave, she stumbled out of bed with a thud, instantly grabbing his attention. He paused and turned, his gaze sharp as he ordered, "Xenia, help Chloe up!"
But Chloe shoved Xenia's hand away and crawled toward Francis.
Through her tears and desperation, she cried, "Francis, you know how much I love you. Without you, life has no meaning."
Dragging her weak legs, Chloe made her way across the floor toward him. It was a scene that would touch anyone's heart.
Francis's brows furrowed, and he shifted his weight, but at that moment, his phone rang.
He answered and heard Wesley's carefree voice, "Francis, I've watched like a dozen guys hit on Harper. If you're done with her, give me the green light, and I'll make my move."
"What are you talking about?" Francis was confused. 'Why was Harper mentioned?
'Wasn't she supposed to be at home?'
Wesley clarified, "I'm at The Boiling Point Bar, and so is your wife."
Francis's handsome eyes darkened as he snapped, "Keep an eye on her, or I swear I'll tear that place down!"
Wesley hissed in disbelief, "Are you seriously trying to dismantle my side gig? Who does that?"
Francis nonchalantly hung up the phone, striding forward to hold Chloe up in his arms.
Chloe couldn't help but feel smug. She just knew her woeful act would tug at Francis's heartstrings. And sure enough, there he was, holding her as she had predicted.
After all these years, it was impossible for Francis not to harbor some affection for her. He just hadn't realized it yet.
Her eyes brimmed with tears, the very picture of vulnerability as she reached out to wrap her arms around Francis's neck, only to find herself gently placed on the bed instead.
Then, he turned to Xenia in a frosty voice, "If you let anything else happen to Miss Chloe, you can retire."
The words were both an instruction and a warning.
Xenia felt a lump in her throat. She had cared for Chloe since she was born, and Francis was well aware of it. He had always treated her with respect — until now, this was the first time he had spoken to her so harshly.
But she quickly composed herself, replying softly, "I understand, Mr. Getty."
Chloe's eyes widened in shock as she watched Francis leave without a moment's hesitation.
Just as she tried to get out of bed to follow him, Xenia's firm grip on her arm stopped her. Shaking her head, Xenia cautioned, "Miss, don't squander all the goodwill Mr. Getty has for you."
Chloe collapsed back onto the bed, tears flowing freely.
"Xenia, I'm so scared. What if Francis leaves me? What should I do?" she sobbed.
Patting Chloe on the back, Xenia reassured her, "Miss, Mr. Getty is just holding off on the divorce for now. We have plenty of ways to make it happen sooner. The key is to stay calm. His fondness for you is your ace in the hole."
Those words rekindled a spark in Chloe's eyes.
'Right, Francis was only staying married for now — if it hadn't been for Dylan, they would've split ages ago. The most pressing issue at hand is to deal with Harper's baby. It has to go.'
Chloe wiped her tears, composed herself, and returned to her elegant posture. She then scrolled through her phone, carefully tracking every move Harper made.
'A bar?' A dark shadow flashed in Chloe's eyes. 'So, Francis was off to see that little tramp.'
She instructed Xenia, "Have Amelia come to see me. I've decided to greenlight her investment proposal."
Xenia nodded, "I'll make the arrangements."
As Chloe lay back down, venom filled her gaze.
'That wretched woman and her pesky child would be better off dead.'
At The Boiling Point Bar, Harper's outfit stood out amidst the flashy clubgoers. She wore an off-white cardigan and a long skirt, a contrast to the bold styles around her. Yet, her presence was captivating, like a vulnerable rabbit among wolves.
After brushing off yet another advance, Molly was feeling a little tipsy.
She joked to Harper, "At this rate, all the other bar-hopping beauties will be out of business!"
As yet another man made his way over, Molly silently mouthed—with a hint of amazement—"Twenty."
'I'm a regular at the bar scene, and the most I've ever gotten hit on in one night was maybe a dozen times. Harper effortlessly broke my record tonight,' Molly thought.
The guy in the shiny jacket approached with a sleazy grin. "Ladies, care to share a table?"
"No thanks, the seats are taken," Molly swiftly responded, her voice edged with irritation. The idea was ludicrous. They had reserved a booth and had the right to reject requests to share a table.
Yet the man was shamelessly persistent. "Don't lie to me. I've been watching, and there's no one here."
Molly snapped, "Even if there isn't anyone, you're not welcome to sit. We've paid for this spot."
Unfazed, the guy with the jacket nudged closer to Harper, "Why don't you let me be your boyfriend, sweet thing?"
Harper frowned, her voice icy. "Please leave, or I'll call security."
He sneered teasingly, "Call for help? I love it when a woman screams, especially a delicate and pretty thing like you. I bet you sound real nice."
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