Chapter 45 Harper Is Determined to Divorce
Abigail grew up under the watchful eye of a ruthless stepmother. She was no stranger to such theatrics. In the past, she might have engaged in battles of wit with these 'damsels,' but times had changed. Now, she had a straightforward approach. Tear them down.
With a mocking tone, she reached for Chloe, "Quit your act! Get up this instant."
But before she could touch her, Chloe burst into sobs, wailing as she spoke. "Abigail, please don't hit me, don't hit me..."
Her arms clung tightly to Francis's legs as if Abigail was some demon straight from hell.
Abigail was enraged. "Get off him! Do you even know the meaning of shame, clinging to a married man's legs like that? Have you no decency?"
Yet the more she tried to pull Chloe away, the more Chloe resisted. Their scuffle was now drawing the attention of others on the second floor.
"Mom," Harper hastily intervened, trying to calm Abigail, who suffered from asthma and shouldn't get worked up.
"Mom!" Francis, too, frowned and raised a hand, attempting to halt Abigail's action.
But then, Chloe suddenly threw herself toward him, causing his hand to shift. In the commotion, he pushed Harper instead.
"Ah—!"
The stairs loomed ominously behind Harper as she let out a piercing scream, her face turning ghostly pale.
Like a flimsy sheet of paper caught in an updraft, she frantically reached out to the man before her, pleading for him to catch her.
Francis felt a jolt in his heart and wanted to reach out to her.
But Chloe was clinging to him too tightly. He was a step too late.
A mere few meters had become an impassable chasm.
The light in Harper's eyes flickered and died.
The blazer slipped off her shoulders, and her arms hung lifelessly to her sides.
Just when she thought she was going to tumble down the stairs, thankfully, Abigail's firm grip saved her from falling.
Once steady on her feet, Harper clung to Abigail's fingertips so tightly, her lips quivering uncontrollably.
The recent horrifying scenario kept rewinding mercilessly in her head like a sharp knife, stabbing her heart over and over, raw and bloody.
"Francis, you—!" Abigail sputtered angrily before dissolving into a fit of coughing.
It all happened too quickly. Francis hadn't meant to nearly push Harper. Seeing her pallid, lifeless face, a pang of regret twisted in his gut.
He desperately wanted to hold her close and protect her.
"Harper," he said with a husky voice, reaching out to comfort her.
But Harper recoiled from him, taking one step back and then another.
This reaction caused Francis's heart to tighten with pain.
Harper felt dizzy, her head spinning.
Pinching the numb palm of her hand, she realized that standing there was just humiliating herself further.
Abigail began to cough again.
Coming to her senses, Harper gently patted Abigail's back, coaxing, "Mom, don't get worked up. Let me help you relax."
She regretted coming here today.
Now, if she couldn't contend with this situation, couldn't she at least evade it?
Abigail's disappointment in Francis was profound, and before leaving, she had only one thing to say.
"No wonder Harper wouldn't confide in you about being bullied. I truly raised a hopeless romantic!"
Francis frowned, perplexed. 'Harper was bullied? Who was bullying her?'
Meanwhile, Chloe was no longer clutching at Francis's leg. She remained seated on the ground, her head down yet eyes alight with a victorious grin.
'As long as I hold onto Francis tightly, the 'old witch's' demise is only a matter of time.'
With that thought, she reached out to Francis with feigned tears in her eyes, pleading pitifully, "Francis, my leg hurts so much..."
Francis lowered his gaze but didn't take her hand. Instead, he pulled her up by the shoulder.
Chloe, seizing an opportunity, attempted to throw herself into Francis's arms, aiming to solidify certain rumors swirling among the gathered crowd.
However, Francis kept her at arm's length with one hand, preventing her from getting any closer.
His voice was cold and unaffected. "If you're not feeling well, you should go back."
Ignoring Chloe's feigned injury, he simply turned and walked away.
"Francis..." Chloe's voice trailed off into sobs from behind him, but Francis, as if deaf to her cries, didn't pause for even a moment.
She swayed unsteadily, her complexion pale and distressed.
His determined strides were clearly taking him in the direction of those two.
'Is it possible that he has actually fallen for Harper?' The mere thought sparked a surge of loathing in Chloe's eyes. At that moment, Amelia came over and supported her.
"Let me help you rest for a bit, Chloe," she offered.
Once they reached a guest room and Amelia had closed the door behind them, she approached Chloe with concern. "Did that old witch hassle you, too?"
When Chloe heard the word 'too,' she looked up at Amelia's swollen lips and instantly understood.
"Did Abigail do that to your face?" she asked, tears rolling down her cheeks.
Amelia ground her teeth with resentment. "Yes, all because of that vile Harper!"
If it hadn't been for Harper, she wouldn't have faced Abigail's wrath.
Chloe began to cry pitifully. "Amelia, I don't think I can be of help anymore. I genuinely liked your investment proposal, but you've seen Abigail's attitude. And now, with Harper pregnant, I've lost all hope that Francis will ever..."
Previously, Chloe had encouraged Amelia by expressing interest in her project and giving her a million-dollar earnest payment, promising to fund it once she became Mrs. Getty entirely.
"What! That little tramp is pregnant?" Amelia exclaimed in shock.
"Uh-huh... but Francis doesn't know yet. I bet Harper plans to use the baby to force his hand..."
Amelia's face twisted with malice. "That wretch! She won't succeed!"
'Harper is already my nemesis. If she gives birth to the Getty family heir, it will bring Amelia no advantage whatsoever.'
"You can't give up, Chloe," Amelia hissed. "As long as Francis cares for you, what's there to fear?"
Chloe wept, covering her face. "It doesn't matter if Francis cares for me—Abigail only has eyes for Harper and her unborn child..."
Seeing Chloe's distress, a glint of conspiracy flashed in Amelia's eyes. "Don't worry, her baby won't see tomorrow's sunrise."
Chloe felt a secret thrill—her machinations may soon pay off. But she masked her emotions, feigning surprise. "Amelia, what are you insinuating?"
Amelia's eyes darkened, a sinister smile creeping across her face. "Just sit back and watch the spectacle. I guarantee you'll be the next Mrs. Getty."
Alarmed, Chloe touched her lips. "Amelia, you wouldn't... Please, don't do anything illegal."
"Chloe, you're too kind-hearted, and that's how that woman got the upper hand. Let it go and just look forward to becoming Mrs. Getty," Amelia advised.
Chloe's gaze dropped, a hint of pain flashing through her eyes as if a nerve had been struck. Yet beneath her sorrow, a barely concealed smirk lingered. 'Her efforts in manipulating this fool is paying off. Just stoke the flames a bit, and she'll jump into the fray. No one will know I'm behind everything.'
She hadn't said a word, after all. Should Amelia's attempts fall through, it would have nothing to do with her. No one could pin anything on her.
Elsewhere.
Harper supported Abigail back to her room to rest.
As Abigail lay in bed, she looked at Harper's pallid face. Amidst her discomfort, frustration brewed over Harper not meeting expectations. She clutched Harper's hand and said, "Harper, I saw it clearly. I don't believe Francis truly meant to push you."
"Uh-huh," Harper nodded, her heart heavy, though whether Francis had intended it or not seemed to matter less and less.
"Listen, honey, I know you're hurt, but rest easy. As long as I'm here, you'll be the only daughter-in-law I acknowledge. With me and Dylan by your side, no one can wrong you."
Harper offered a bittersweet smile. 'Dylan and Abigail have always been good to me. If all I wanted was the Mrs. Getty title, I should be content.
'But I was greedy for more—I had foolishly longed for Francis's heart. The relentless tearing pain in my chest is unbearable.'
Looking up with resolve, she stated, "Mom, I'm sorry, but I want a divorce. Please grant me this."
Francis had just reached the door when he heard her request, his expression darkening instantly.
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