Chapter 17
Lizetta frantically waved her hands, “Grandma Fiona, you got it all wrong. I just caught a chill and got some stomach reflux these past couple of days. I just got tested the day before yesterday; definitely not pregnant. Remington knows.” Text © 2024 NôvelDrama.Org.
Fiona, clinging to hope, immediately whipped her head around to look at Remington, who nodded, “She’s not
pregnant.”
The old lady’s face darkened, and the hand patting Remington’s arm turned into a fierce pinch.
“A man can be all high–flying in his career, but if he can’t take care of his wife, can’t have kids, he’s good for nothing! Tell me, you’re hardly ever home, leaving your lovely wife to fend for herself. What’s the point of having you around?”
Only Fiona could talk to Remington that way; the man looked helpless.
“Lizetta and I are still young; we’re not rushing to have kids.”
“You’re almost thirty; how can you not be in a hurry? I’m back this time, and I won’t rest until I see you two make a baby!”
She laid down the law, “Tonight, you and Liz are moving back to the family house, and you better get busy making that baby!”
“Alright, alright, will do,” Remington agreed.
“What about you, Liz?”
Fiona was pushing for a baby in front of the kid, and Lizetta blushed with embarrassment, worried that the old lady would add more, so she quickly nodded.
“I’ll definitely go back to keep you company, Grandma Fiona.”
Lizetta also wanted to find an opportunity to talk to Fiona about her plans to divorce and study abroad.
In the evening, Lizetta stepped out of Tempo Dance Studio and saw a familiar luxury car parked by the road.
She hurried over, opened the door, and slid into the car, telling Cedric to “Drive.”
Remington looked up from his paperwork, “Am I that unpresentable?”
She was just a part–time teacher, and being seen getting into a luxury car could cause unnecessary trouble. Besides, there were two instances before when she took his car to work, and two blocks away from the company building, he’d tell her to get out.
She had worked at the Group for over a year, and no one knew she was Mrs. Dashiell. The one who should be kept out of sight was her.
Lizetta nodded, “We’re getting divorced, and I don’t want any complications.”
Remington chuckled, picked up the document beside him, and tossed it to Lizetta.
“Take it back; I don’t agree to the divorce. Quit your part–time job; come back to work for the company. I’ll pretend your little rebellion these past days never happened.”
Today, when he couldn’t see her bustling around, his work efficiency dropped.
Remington’s tone was domineering, and Lizetta, infuriated, picked up the divorce papers that had been thrown back at her.
Why should she go back to work there?
For the past year, she was willing to do the grunt work at the company because she still had feelings for him. and wanted to make their marriage work. But even hustling under his nose every day didn’t bring him home.
23:28
She was tired.
“I won’t go back. I have dreams too. I’m not as you say, that I couldn’t live without the Dashiell family. I’m doing fine now.”
“Your idea of doing fine is being a lousy dance teacher? Even when you break your leg through dancing, can you afford a necklace?” Remington’s gaze swept over the woman’s feet.
Her injured right foot was propped up, likely in pain. Silly woman, she was just asking for trouble!
His disdainful tone made Lizetta feel choked up. She thought back to the phone call she got earlier in the afternoon.
It was from the Dashiell Group’s entertainment company, offering 200 grand for her new song to be used as the opening piece for Evelina’s solo concert.
Evelina had her parents shelling out money, and even Remington was backing her dreams to the hilt, while she was just fit to be a lowly clerk?
“I want to dance! I can live without jewelry. Can’t I leave with nothing if we divorce?”
Remington didn’t expect that even after he tried to hold on to her, she was still set on divorcing. An icy chill surrounded the man as he grasped Lizetta’s chin.
“You came to the Dashiell family at eight, living in luxury until now. Do you need me to do the math for you? Divorce is fine, but I don’t make bad deals. Pay up 3 million; then we’ll talk!”
Lizetta clenched her fists, her eyes widening in disbelief.
“3 million? Mr. Dashiell, you sure know the secret to wealth. Marry and divorce once a year, and you’d get rich without lifting a finger.”
Remington snorted, “A measly 3 million a year, I wouldn’t stoop to trading my marriage for that. Besides, in this world, you’re the only ingrate who grew up on the Dashiell dime and still thinks of leaving the Dashiell family.”
Lizetta was so angry she wanted to bite him, but the man, as if anticipating her move, lifted his hand from her chin to pinch her cheeks.
Lizetta’s face was scrunched up like a duck, and she was puffing with anger.
“If you can’t pay up, then behave yourself.”
Tears welled up in her eyes, and only then did Remington let go.
He flicked open his lighter with a click and set the divorce papers alight, tossing them into the trash can.
Lizetta stared blankly at the flames, “If you won’t divorce, what about Evelina?”
“That’s none of your concern!”
So; he planned to keep both her and Evelina? What a jerk!
Lizetta turned her head away, fuming, when Remington suddenly said, “Take it off; let me see.”
Lizetta turned back incredulously, only to see his gaze fixated on her injured foot.