Chapter 4: Let's Get a Divorce!

That night, after Shenina’s birthday party ended, the Vexler residence finally grew quiet again.

The guests had left, and the maids were busy cleaning up the remaining balloons, plates, and colorful ribbons scattered around the backyard.

Sarah stayed until the very end of the event. She smiled, thanked each guest who said goodbye, and pretended not to see every time Mia walked beside Ronan, chatting warmly with the rest of the Vexler family.

Inside Sarah's chest, the pain tightened, but she held it in. She had caused enough trouble earlier that day, and she didn’t want to make things worse by showing her sadness in front of everyone.

All day long, Sarah tried to appear strong. She even helped the younger maids gather the presents, tidy up the cake table, and make sure all the children went home with their goodie bags.

But every time her gaze accidentally met Mia’s, who was laughing softly in the living room with Madam Vexler and Miranda, Sarah’s chest grew heavier.

In six years of marriage, Sarah had never once felt accepted by the Vexler family.

To them, she was nothing but a fallen noble’s daughter. They saw her as someone who didn’t know how to live like a socialite—too simple, too out of place in her husband’s glittering world.

***

When everything was done, Sarah tucked Shenina into bed. She gently brushed her daughter’s hair and looked at her small, sleeping face after such an emotional day.

The tears she had held back finally fell, sliding slowly down her cheeks.

But as she walked back to her own room, she froze at the doorway.

The lights were on. On the bed sat someone she didn’t expect to see waiting for her that night—Ronan.

He was wearing only a towel. His broad chest was visible under the warm light.

Sarah stiffened, her fingers gripping the doorframe unconsciously.

Ronan looked at her blankly. “Close the door.”

His tone left no room for refusal.

Sarah swallowed hard and stepped inside.

When the door shut, Ronan leaned back against the headboard and said in a low voice,

“Take off your clothes. We’re starting tonight.”

“You’ve been taking the vitamins the doctor gave you, haven’t you?” he added coldly. “They’ll help boost your hormones to have a baby boy.”

Sarah’s body tensed. “Ronan, not tonight. I’m tired. I—”

Before she could finish, Ronan stood up and stepped closer.

His gaze was cold, devoid of any tenderness. His large hand reached for her shoulder, trying to pull down her strap.

Sarah instantly pushed him away, stepping back.

“Stop!” her voice trembled. “Do you even know what you’re doing?”

Ronan stared at her. “I’m doing what needs to be done. We need a son.”

Those words made Sarah’s blood boil. All the emotions she had held in since the party burst out at once. Her eyes burned with tears, but this time it wasn’t from sadness—it was from anger.

“You bastard!” she shouted.

“After calling me a bad mother in front of everyone, inviting your mistress to our daughter’s birthday, and now coming to my room just to force me for sex!?”

“You bastard, Ronan!”

Ronan said nothing. His stare remained sharp, but there was a flicker of surprise—as if he didn’t expect Sarah to fight back.

“If I’m no longer accepted by the Vexler family, and if you as my husband never respect me as your wife,” she said hoarsely, “then let’s get a divorce!”

The words echoed through the quiet room.

Ronan stared at her for a long moment, expressionless.

Then suddenly his voice exploded, cold and loud. “NO!”