Chapter 5 Meeting an Old Friend Again

Irene stood at the doorway, her heart sinking as she watched Rupert's face darken.

She knew the Getty family had always looked down on her.

It was like that five years ago, and now that she was divorced with Jared in tow, old Wesley despised her even more!

If she could get rid of Wesley, she could rightfully become Mrs. Getty, and everything the Getty family owned would belong to her and Jared.

At this thought, a shadow flickered across Irene's eyes.

Rupert's face paled with anger, his voice ice-cold, "Don't forget, Irene became like this because of you."

"You're the real culprit. What right do you have to throw a fit here?"

Rupert felt a slight shock seeing her abandon her usual fawning attitude for this cold, resolute demeanor.

But he hardened his expression again. "Go apologize to mother and son now, and I'll pretend today never happened."

He simply couldn't believe that a woman who was madly in love with him yesterday would suddenly want a divorce and cut ties today.

If not playing hard to get, then what?

Rupert had plenty of confidence in himself.

Looking up again, he noticed Harper's gaze on him was filled with contempt.

At that moment, Rupert almost thought he'd mistaken her for someone else.

Harper let out a cold laugh. "I don't have time to play these games with you."

With that, she grabbed her luggage and prepared to leave.

Rupert's heart trembled, and he instinctively reached for her wrist, but Harper sidestepped his grasp.

She paused briefly, turned around, her face showing undisguised disgust.

She realized now that Rupert, whom she once loved deeply, was incredibly selfish.

In truth, she had never truly existed in his heart.

Before, she believed that sincerity could move people.

Little did she know that sincerity was the most worthless thing of all.

Harper discovered that the last bit of love in her heart had completely vanished today.

Her decision was undoubtedly the right one.

"Whether we divorce or not is up to you. You cheated during our marriage, and whether the Getty family saves face is also up to you."

With that, she left the mansion without looking back.

Irene, who had already returned downstairs with Jared in her arms, watched Harper's departing figure with triumphant eyes.

She knew that Harper, dull as a block of wood, was no match for her.

Stepping out of the Getty family home, Harper suddenly took a deep breath.

Freedom.

In the car, Harper drove one-handed while calling her best friend, Bianca Hayes.

"Let's go for drinks."

Bianca had known Harper for over twenty years, and before she could even tease her, those words made her pupils dilate in shock.

Finally, in disbelief, she asked,

"Who are you?!"

Harper chuckled at Bianca's response.

Her expression was calm, her pale skin giving her an ethereal, detached beauty.

But her voice clearly revealed emotional undercurrents.

"Bianca, it's me, Harper."

Bianca wasn't stupid; she could tell it was Harper.

But what shock had Harper experienced? Since getting married, forget bars—Harper had barely even made time to go shopping with her.

She had devoted herself entirely to being the perfect wife for Rupert.

But that jerk Rupert's heart was never with Harper!

He'd even embarrassed her multiple times in public.

Now Harper was asking her out for drinks late at night...

Could it be?

Had that bastard Rupert laid hands on her?

Bianca's mind always ran wild, but she immediately agreed.

They arranged to meet at The Velvet Whisper.

Harper's face was breathtakingly beautiful; even in the most understated colors, she couldn't hide her natural radiance.

Countless curious and admiring glances fell on her.

"Divorce?"

Harper's face showed resignation, but more than that, relief, "Don't worry, Bianca."

"I won't sacrifice everything for a man."

Two-legged frogs were hard to find, but men? They're everywhere.

Bianca nearly wept with joy.

She excitedly grabbed Harper's hands, her eyes brimming with undisguised delight.

"Harper! You've come to your senses!"

From the beginning, she'd never approved of this marriage.

How could that jerk Rupert ever deserve her Harper?

Rupert had used Harper to secure numerous contracts, then kicked her aside, all while carrying on with that vixen Irene.

The rumors had spread throughout their social circle.

She'd told Harper about them.

But Harper had always chosen to believe Rupert.

Now, finally, the clouds had parted to reveal the moon—after the divorce, everything would be better for Harper.

Harper's slender fingers made the ordinary wine glass in her hand look like a work of art.

She tilted her head back slightly, revealing half of her snow-white neck, like a proud swan.

Thinking about it, she hadn't had a drink since getting married.

At her core, Harper was a traditional woman. She had always wanted to have a child with Rupert, so she'd been preparing for pregnancy.

But in the end, he had remained chaste for Irene's sake.

In the flickering lights,

she seemed to see again how they first met.

At sixteen, Harper experienced her darkest hour.

A month after her mother, Niamh Ross, died, her father, Wilder Mellon, brought home his illegitimate children, stripping Harper of her status as the Mellon family's only daughter and attempting to seize all the assets Niamh had left her.

Wilder's mistress, Nora Morris, became Mrs. Mellon and naturally saw Harper as a thorn in her side.

Harper was tormented by them for two full years, and on her eighteenth birthday, she was drugged and abandoned at a club.

Just closing her eyes, Harper could recall the horrific scene from that day.

Five or six disgusting men surrounded her on the couch, their eyes filled with undisguised malice.

They didn't touch her—they just wanted to see how wild the drugged Harper would get.

She felt her body burning with heat, her legs terribly weak, the soft sounds escaping her throat making her slap herself hard.

Anger and shame enveloped her heart.

Harper slapped herself again, trying to regain clarity.

The next moment, a man grabbed her arm and began forcing strong liquor down her throat.

The alcohol made Harper's face flush slightly as she looked at Bianca, continuing to recall those events from years ago.

When she next awoke, she was lying in a hospital bed, and the man keeping vigil beside her was Rupert.

He had saved her.

Young love took root in her heart like wild grass.

Harper became Rupert's shadow, willingly doing anything for him.

She thought she could do better.

But looking back now, the events of these years seemed laughable.

Harper set down her glass, her expression unchanged except for the flush on her cheeks.

It made her look more vibrant, more alive.

"I've repaid that debt of gratitude."

From now on, Rupert would no longer exist in her heart.

Harper glanced up, keenly noticing a man's sharp, probing gaze from the darkness nearby.

His silhouette was strikingly familiar.

Harper frowned and looked up again.

Their eyes met, and Harper's heart felt like it was being squeezed by a giant hand.

It was him!