Chapter 2 Get a Divorce
Margaret looked at him squarely, her tone light yet resolute as she repeated, “Let’s get a divorce, Samson. Do you like this birthday gift?”
Samson’s handsome features didn’t flicker. “You’re asking for a divorce just because I didn’t spend my birthday with you?”
Margaret’s voice was steady, “Alice is back, isn’t she?”
- the mention of Alice, Samson’s lips curled into a cold smirk.
Fie closed the distance between them with long, deliberate strides. “You’re upset because of Alice?”
As the youngest business tycoon in the city, Samson exuded a powerful aura. As he approached, Margaret instinctively took a step back.
Her slender back met the wall, sending a shiver through her.
Before she could react, Samson loomed closer, his presence darkening her view. He braced one hand against the wall beside her, trapping her between his strong frame and the unyielding surface.
Samson’s sharp gaze bore down on her, his lips curving into a mocking smile. “The whole of Miami knew I was going to marry Alice. When you schemed your way into becoming my wife, did you not know? You didn’t mind then, so what’s all this fuss about now?”
Margaret’s face paled.
Yes, everyone knew he was meant to marry Alice.
Had it not been for his accident, turning him into a coma, she would never have had the chance to marry him.
She could never forget the day he woke up. His eyes opened, only to settle on her with unmistakable disappointment.
Since then, they’d lived separate lives under the same roof. He had never once touched her.
His heart belonged to Alice.
She had always known that. But still…
Margaret’s gaze
softened as she studied Samson’s face, her thoughts drifting to a boy from long ago. She wondered if Samson still remembered her.
Apparently, she had been the only one stuck in the past.
Enough.
The last three years had been her tribute to her unrequited love.
Suppressing the ache in her chest, Margaret spoke again, her tone firmer this time. “Samson, let’s
end our sexless marriage.”
Samson’s brows arched slightly, his deep voice laced with amusement.
“Sexless?”
He reached out, fingers tilting her delicate chin upward. His thumb brushed her soft, crimson lips, tracing them in a gesture that was both teasing and possessive. “So that’s what this is about? You’re craving it now?”
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Margaret’s fair cheeks flushed a vivid red, her expression akin to a ripe berry ready to burst
That wasn’t what she meant!
Yet his touch lingered, his thumb pressing lightly against her lips, playful yet invasive. It was hard to reconcile such a refined man with this casual audacity,
She couldn’t believe Samson was now playing with her lips, as if mocking her. Samson studied her closely for the first time. Her drab black–and–white outfits and oversized glasses had always obscured her beauty, casting her as plain.
But now, up close, he noticed how small and delicate her face truly was. Beneath those glasses lay 2 pair of strikingly round eyes, framed by a face of understated elegance.
Her lips were soft.
Where his thumb pressed, the pink hue would fade momentarily before bouncing back, supple and inviting
An inexplicable urge tugged at him to taste them.
His gaze darkened. I didn’t expect that you are so desperate for a man
Smack!
Margaret slapped him hard across the face.
Samson’s head snapped to the side, frozen in shock.
Margaret’s trembling fingers balled into fists. She had lowered herself for love, only to be humiliated. He had crossed the line.
Her voice quivered with fury, “I know you’ve never stopped loving Alice. Fine. I’ll give you wha you want. I’ll give her back the title of Mrs. Hawthorne!”
Samson’s face turned icy, a sharp frost settling over his striking features. No one had ever dared? to hit him before. Ever.
His gaze, cold and cutting, locked onto her. “Margaret, you think you can just marry me when you want and leave when you please? What do you take me for?
Margaret let out a bitter laugh. “A toy.”
What?
Samson’s calm demeanor cracked.
Margaret suppressed the sharp pain in her chest, forcing a cruel smile. “You were just a toy I stole from Alice. Now that I’m bored, I’m done with you.”
Samson’s expression darkened, the tension in the room thick enough to cut. Fine, Margaret. You’ve got guts. Divorce it is. But don’t come to me later, begging to get back together!” With that, Samson stormed up the stairs, slamming the door behind him. The thunderous noise echoed through the house.
Margaret, as if drained of all strength, slid down the wall until she was seated on the carpet. She wrapped her arms around herself, whispering to the empty room, “Samson, I won’t love you anymore.”
***
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< Chapter 2 Get a Divorce
Sheny
Margaret’s fair cheeks flushed a vivid red, her expression akin to a ripe berry ready to burst.
That wasn’t what she meant!
Yet his touch lingered, his thumb pressing lightly against her lips, playful yet invasive. It was hard to reconcile such a refined man with this casual audacity.
She couldn’t believe Samson was now playing with her lips, as if mocking her.
Samson studied her closely for the first time. Her drab black–and–white outfits and oversized glasses had always obscured her beauty, casting her as plain.
But now, up close, he noticed how small and delicate her face truly was. Beneath those glasses lay face of understated elegance. a pair of strikingly round eyes, framed by a
Her lips were soft.
Where his thumb pressed, the pink hue would fade momentarily before bouncing back, supple and inviting.
An inexplicable urge tugged at him to taste them.
His gaze
are darkened. “I didn’t expect that you
so desperate for
a
man.”
Smack!
Margaret slapped him hard across the face.
Samson’s head snapped to the side, frozen in shock.
Margaret’s trembling fingers balled into fists. She had lowered herself for love, only to be humiliated. He had crossed the line.
Her voice quivered with fury, “I know you’ve never stopped loving Alice. Fine. I’ll give you whin you want. I’ll give her back the title of Mrs. Hawthorne!”
Samson’s face turned icy, a sharp frost settling over his striking features. No one had ever dared to hit him before. Ever.
His gaze,
cold and cutting, locked onto her. “Margaret, you think you can just marry me when you
take me for?” want and leave when you please? What do you
Margaret let out a bitter laugh. “A toy.”
What?
Samson’s calm demeanor cracked.
Margaret suppressed the sharp pain in her chest, forcing a cruel smile. “You were just a toy I stole from Alice. Now that I’m bored, I’m done with you.”
Samson’s expression darkened, the tension in the room thick enough to cut. “Fine, Margaret. You’ve got guts. Divorce it is. But don’t come to me later, begging to get back together!”
With that, Samson stormed up the stairs, slamming the door behind him. The thunderous noise echoed through the house.
Margaret, as if drained of all strength, slid down the wall until she was seated on the carpet.
She wrapped her arms around herself, whispering to the empty room, “Samson, I won’t love you anymore.”
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< Chapter 2 Get a Divorce
The next morning.
Elain gently pushed open the door to the study and stepped inside.
Menu
Samson sat at his desk, buried in paperwork. His reputation as a workaholic was well–earned.
“Sir,” Elain called softly.
Samson didn’t even glance up. His mood was unmistakably foul, the air around him practically frozen.
Carefully, Elain placed a steaming cup of coffee on the desk. “Sir, Mrs. Hawthorne brew the coffee for you.”
Samson’s pen stilled mid–stroke. The frosty edge in his demeanor thawed slightly.
Was this her way of apologizing?
He had to admit Margaret was a dutiful wife, cooking for him, caring for his every need, and always anticipating his food preferences.
Samson picked up the coffee and took a sip.
It was exactly how he liked it.
But his irritation lingered.
Last night’s slap still stung, and he wasn’t one to forgive easily.
One cup of coffee wouldn’t be enough to smooth things over.
“Does she regret what she said?” Samson asked coolly.
a peculiar glance. “Sir, Mrs. Hawthorne has left.”
Elain hesitated, casting
casting him
Samson froze, his head snapping up to look at her.
Elain handed him an envelope. “She packed her suitcase and asked me to give this to you. Samson opened the envelope. The bold title jumped out at him, Divorce Agreement. He sat in stunned silence. He thought it was a gesture of reconciliation. Elain added hesitantly, “Sir, Mrs. Hawthorne said you should finish the coffee and sign the papers.”
Samson’s gaze turned frigid. “Pour it out. All of it!”
Samson
seemed
to enjoy the coffee earlier.
Elain couldn’t understand.
Without daring to argue, she quickly removed the cup.
Samson’s expression darkened as he skimmed the agreement. Margaret didn’t ask for a penny, opting to leave with nothing.
A bitter laugh escaped his lips. Such self–righteousness. Did she really think she could survive without his support? A girl from the countryside with nothing to her name? Three years ago, she had schemed to marry him for his wealth.
His eyes narrowed as they landed on the reason for divorce she’d written by hand. Samson had physical dysfunction and was incapable of fulfilling marital duties.
Samson’s jaw clenched.
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< Chapter 2 Get a Divorce
His face turned black as thunder.
That damned woman!
He grabbed his phone and called her without hesitation.
It rang twice before Margaret’s clear voice came through. “Hello?”
