Chapter 61 I Thought You Didn't Like Her
Harper felt suffocated, her heart heavy. "Francis, what do you take me for? Am I just a doll to you, or a readily available toy for you to vent your frustrations on?"
Francis' expression changed, narrowing his eyes. "Is that what you think?"
"Then, how am I supposed to interpret your actions? If it were Chloe in front of you, would you treat her the same way?"
"No, I wouldn't," he answered without hesitation.
From the very beginning, he never had any intention of getting involved with Chloe.
Harper's eyelashes trembled slightly, bitterness rising in her throat, unsettling her.
How could she forget again?
In Francis' eyes, she wasn't worthy to be compared to Chloe, let alone stand on the same level.
His reluctance to act toward Chloe wasn't because he didn't love her; perhaps, as Chloe had said, he cherished her too much.
When you cherish someone deeply, you can't bear to see them suffer.
He couldn't bear to label Chloe as a mistress.
Harper smiled sadly, suddenly understanding everything.
"Francis, what do you need from me in order to let me go?"
She changed her tone, speaking softly, reaching out to grab the man's proud neck, like a little dog, she bit his lip lightly.
"Where do you want to do this? In the car or somewhere else?"
The man's face turned dark.
Harper acted as if she didn't notice, her fingers lightly sliding over his ear, just as he had done to her, exhaling hot breath.
"After it's over, you let me go."
The man's reaction was quick, but there was no lust on his face, only a mysterious expression she couldn't figure out.
Harper didn't want to understand.
She just wanted to survive.
After two years, she had come to understand Francis to some extent.
The more she resisted, the more he would be provoked.
If she angered him, it would become difficult for her to leave.
Even if it wasn't for love, he would still keep her by his side.
Before the divorce, if she hoped for peace, she at least had to satisfy him, let him vent his desires.
She let him go, and right in front of Francis, she began to unbutton her blouse, unveiling her delicate collarbone and chest.
Francis' eyes immediately darkened. Harper knew he thought she looked fragile, yet she also knew he appreciated her exquisite figure.
He tightly furrowed his brow, lifting her up, his breath unsteady as he said, "Not here."
He then carried her upstairs, Harper hooked her fingers around his neck the whole way, and even voluntarily pressing her fingerprint to unlock the door when they arrived home.
She was thrown onto the sofa, and almost immediately, Francis forcefully covered her delicate lips with his own.
He was no saint; his anger had been building up since the mountain incident, and now he was on the verge of losing control.
Especially, when Harper was still provoking him.
She hooked her fingers around his neck, more proactive than ever before; their lips and teeth gnawing and blending together, the sound of water harmonizing, making their faces turn red and hearts race.
He unbuttoned her shirt, and in that moment when reason was about to strip away, Harper grabbed his hand and met his intense dark eyes.
"Promise me that once we're done, you'll leave me alone."
At this moment, there was no one who wouldn't agree.
Harper knew and understood him, which is why she took the initiative.
Francis squinted his eyes, a cold chill running through him. "Are you sure?"
Harper stared at him without backing down. "Francis, I'm not joking."
A gloom settled over Francis' dark eyes as he asked again, "Are you really determined to end it between us?"
The atmosphere was quiet and oppressive.
It felt like they were at the brink of an explosion. With each passing moment, her hesitation intensified until finally, she released it with a resounding "Yes," accompanied by a heavy nod.
Within a second, Francis' face turned icy, and his eyes turned piercingly cold. He said, "Harper, do you really think I can't live without you?"
A bitter taste swelled within Harper's heart. She had hoped to uncover evidence that Francis couldn't bear to live without her.
Unfortunately, there was none.
"I'm self-aware. After the divorce, please don't try to find me, Mr. Getty."
"Fine."
He looked at her with a depth that masked his emotions. Rising to his feet, he walked away.
The door slammed shut with a resounding force.
Harper lay still on the couch, feeling a sharp ache in her heart.
After a moment, she whispered to herself, "Harper, now you're alone once more."
After leaving Clearwater Bay, the black Bentley went straight to a bar.
When Wesley arrived, there were already seven or eight empty bottles on the table.
Francis looked disheveled as he downed his drink, accompanied by Robert who was drinking with him.
Wesley's gaze seemed to see two lunatics.
He swiftly grabbed the glass from Francis' hand, his eyes flashing with concern. "Francis, are you trying to kill yourself?"
Robert, clearly intoxicated, chimed in, "A little alcohol never hurt anyone."
Before Wesley could respond, Francis tapped the table with his slender fingers, signaling the waiter to refill his glass.
The waiter looked at Wesley with hesitation while holding the bottle of alcohol.
Wesley snapped impatiently, "Get out!"
Relieved, the waiter dashed out of the room.
Wesley sank into his seat and turned to Robert, his expression grave. "Did you know he had surgery yesterday and he's already out drinking today? He must think he's had along life."
Francis kept this news secret, and Robert had no idea.
Frowning, Robert asked, "What happened?"
Wesley snorted. "He played the hero."
Robert thought of Chloe and asked, "What happened to Chloe?"
"It has nothing to do with Chloe," Wesley replied.
Robert furrowed his brow. "So, it's related to Harper then?"
"Yup," Wesley said, motioning for the waiter to bring a drink to Francis. He asked, "What's going on?"
Just this morning, he saw the two of them in love, and now, in just half a day, there was trouble brewing.
Francis took a sip of his drink, his throat feeling dry. He remained silent.
Seeing his silence, Wesley deliberately taunted, "Francis, if you don't like Harper, you should just divorce her. There are plenty of women eagerly waiting to catch your attention. Just think of it as being charitable, granting single ladies in Northfield a chance.”
Robert also snorted coldly, "That's right, it's not worth getting drunk over a woman!"
Francis tightened his grip on the cup in his hand, giving them both a cold glance.
Wesley acted as if he hadn't seen it and continued, "But Harper is not bad, I quite like her."
Crack!
A crisp sound.
Francis unexpectedly crushed the cup in his hand.
His tone was cold and resolute, "Don't even think about making any advances toward her!"
"If you care about her so much, why are you fighting?" Wesley raised an eyebrow and asked, "Are you still considering divorcing Harper and marrying Chloe?"
"No, I've already sorted everything out with Chloe," Francis replied.
This statement was quite surprising, catching Robert's attention as well.
"So why are you fighting then?"
Francis said irritably, "We agreed to get a divorce."
Wesley was taken aback. "But you were so affectionate this morning. How did things change so quickly?"
He thought for a moment and asked, "Did you tell Harper about Chloe?"
Francis remained silent. Did he even need to say anything?
In Harper's eyes and heart, there was already another man. Instead of letting her resent him, it would be better to let them be together.
Wesley probably understood the situation now.
"Since you've clarified things with Chloe, you really should tell Harper,” Wesley advised. "Otherwise, she might assume you don't care for her and naturally start arguing with you."
Francis felt annoyed. "There's no need."
He had no interest in winning Harper back, who now, had feelings for someone else.
Seeing his demeanor, Wesley chose not to attempt further persuasion and instead stated bluntly, "Let's see what you'll do when Harper loses all feelings for you."
Francis's handsome eyebrows furrowed. "What did you say?"
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