Chapter 11 Julian called Harold, but the answer he got was nothing like what he expected. "Divorce? Who said I wanted a divorce?!" His eyes widened, his chest rising and falling so violently that Harold had trouble understanding what exactly was going through his grandson's mind. "Haven't you always disliked her? Didn't you always talk about divorcing her?" Harold recalled the divorce agreement Sloane had finally brought to him and added, "That document had your own signature on it." His signature? Julian was on the verge of protesting-of insisting he'd never signed such papers-when the memory surfaced: the heated argument a month prior, the document he'd signed in a blind rage and thrown at her in a moment of fury. His throat closed up. He couldn't speak. He had only signed it in a fit of temper, intending nothing more than to scare her, to vent his rage. He never truly meant it. He had thought it was like every other time. He had thrown divorce papers at her before, and every time she quietly tore them up and went back to him. He never imagined she would keep this one. That she would actually take it and walk away for real. "Julian, you've always claimed to detest her. Now that she's gone, shouldn't you feel relieved?" Harold's question struck him dumb, rendering him incapable of response. Should he feel glad? It seemed the logical reaction. But all he felt was a sharp, suffocating pain in his chest, stabbing so tightly he could barely breathe. He didn't even know what Harold said afterward, or when the call ended. He only knew one thing. He didn't want Sloane to leave. The next day Julian went to the hospital. The moment Lena saw him, her face lit with shy delight, but before she could even call his name, the coldness in his eyes froze her words in her throat. Forcing a smile, she swallowed her unease. "Julian, what's troubling you? Has someone upset you again?" He didn't answer. Instead, he fixed her with an intense, prolonged stare before asking, "Don't you have something you need to tell me?" Chapter 11 7.24%% Her heartbeat slammed against her ribs, and a sense of dread pooled in her stomach. The smile on her face wavered. She fumbled for words, pretending not to understand. "Julian, I don't know what you mean... I-". Her excuse was cut short when his hand clamped around her chin, tilting her face up. Though her eyes welled with manufactured tears, his next words struck far deeper than his physical grip. "Explain the plan you and your mother concocted. How precisely did you intend to replace Sloane?" The raw disgust in his eyes was unmistakable, his chilling gaze feeling like a physical burn against her skin. For a terrifying instant, Lena truly believed that if looks could kill, she would be eviscerated on the spot. His next words crushed the last of her hope. The memory of his shadowed eyes yesterday replayed in her mind, and color drained from her face. Her voice trembled. "Julian, let me explain. I only did it because I love you too much-" "Love me?" His tone was scathing, cutting through her lies like shards of ice. "You love me, so you schemed and manipulated me? What is it you truly love? Me-or the title of Heir to the Shaw Group?" He didn't wait for her to finish. His lips curled in a cold, humorless laugh. "Lena, I thought you were different." He had believed she was different. That was why he gave her everything, stood by her no matter what. And how had she repaid him? With schemes, with lies, with a heart that had never truly been his. Because of her, Sloane was gone. Julian didn't even know why Sloane's face surfaced in his mind at that moment. He only knew one thing. The woman standing in front of him had driven her away. "Lena," he said, his voice dangerously low, "you will live to witness the consequences of your actions." Chapter 11 7.24% Discover our latest featured short drama reel. Watch now and enjoy the story!