Chapter 90

Chapter 90 Sophia paused, her eyes locking onto the man’s stormy face. It was just a ring, tossed carelessly into a dark corner.

Why the sudden fury? Then it hit her. He’d always nitpicked at her, his mood turning arctic whenever she fell short. In four years of being together, apart from a brief moment of tenderness in bed, when had this man ever shown her a smile in daily life?

Sophia lingered on his face, then slowly lowered her gaze to the ring clutched in her hand. Once, she’d dreamt of him slipping it on, a symbol of their happiness. Sunset walks, hand–in–hand, their shadows stretching long. But reality was a harsh mistress. This ring, picked by his secretary on a whim, was just another example. After tossing her the woman’s band, he’d flung the man’s ring into a drawer like unwanted junk.

Four years untouched, unworn. This marriage had been her fantasy, a one–woman show. He’d never truly been a part of it.

“Jason,” she started, voice steady, “I finally get it. You can’t force love. We’re a dead end, a highway to nowhere. This marriage, this ring, it’s all a joke. Letting go is the only way to break free. You don’t owe me anything. This marriage was my mistake, a forced fit that ends sourly. My payback.”

With a swift jerk, she flung the ring out the window. It landed in the garden pond with a tiny plop, sending ripples across the still water. Unlike the water’s disturbance, her heart remained strangely calm. Finally, she was shed of the last vestige of this sham marriage.

The sight of the ring sailing through the air turned Jason’s face ashen. A sudden, inexplicable panic clawed at him. Things he’d previously dismissed now felt like a punch to the gut. He lunged at her, his grip bruising as he seized her wrist. “Who gave you the damn right to throw that away?”

Sophia met his gaze, her eyes blazing with a defiance he hadn’t seen before. “What’s the point of clinging to something that doesn’t fit? We’re getting divorced tomorrow anyway. This room is getting prepped for your soulmate. Should I keep it here as a constant reminder?”

“Sophia,” he snarled, his gaze darting to the pond below. Anger simmered in his hawk–like eyes. “You think this gets you out of my life that easily? Dream on. Even after the divorce, you’ll be tied to me, playing by my rules.”

Sophia studied his almost maniacal expression, and a strange sense of peace washed over her. This man, for all the hurt he caused, also cared for her, in his own twisted way. His possessiveness wasn’t just about control; it was a mask for something deeper. A cruel smile played on her lips. “So, you want me as your mistress?”

Jason’s body tensed, his grip tightening on her wrist. The word “mistress” stung his ears, a harsh reality check. After the divorce, if he kept her under his thumb, that’s exactly what she’d be. He hated the term, a slap in the face to her true feelings. Undeniably, she loved him deeply. For four years, she’d put up with his crap, giving everything silently. He’d grown so accustomed to it, he barely noticed. Being genuinely cared for by someone was undoubtedly fortunate, but it was unfortunate that despite his high status, he could never reciprocate her feelings. All he could say was, “It’s good that you understand, Don’t forget, your father is still in prison, and your brother owes a huge gambling debt. If you want them to stay alive, you just have to behave yoursell”

A smirk played on Sophia’s lips. She knew better than to resist. The thrill of being his secret, the slow unraveling of his defenses that was the real game. “Considering I’ll be your mistress, financial support comes with the territory, doesn’t it? I’m curious how much Mr. Wilson intends to invest in this arrangement. The mention of financial support once again pricked at Jason’s ears, intensifying the sensation of pain that slowly crept towards his heart. He grabbed her and strode to the bed, throwing her onto it roughly, then began to unbutton his shirt.

“We’ll figure that out later. That way, I can offer an appropriate price.”