Chapter 4

David turned his head slightly, looking over at Maeva and Harvey. Half his face was lit, while the other was shrouded in shadows. It made him look dark and unnervingly cold.

He didn't say a word, but his gaze was sharp and ruthless.

The car slowly drove away, and he raised the window.

Joey said, "Mr. Cavendish, if the paparazzi happen to snap photos of Mrs. Cavendish with another man and blow the whole thing up, it might damage your image and Cavendish Group's reputation."

"Wouldn't she be the one who'd be hit the hardest?" David snorted.

"Uh…"

David kept his face blank as he said, "Best-case scenario is that she goes to a hotel with Harvey Peltz tonight, ruins her own reputation, and gets criticized by everyone. Then, as the one at fault, she won't see a single cent from me in the divorce."

Maeva wanted his money, didn't she? The more she wanted something, the less he wanted to give it to her. He would rather donate it to charity than spend it on her. He wanted to see what she would make of herself without him.

With the way the Pearson family was now, plus Matthew being completely useless, there was no way she'd live well. She thought she could spread her wings and leave him with confidence, but she'd forgotten that for all these years, it was only by clinging to the Cavendish family that she'd managed to live decently.

Her pride was something David had long wanted to crush.

…

The Pearson residence was the only place left for Maeva to go after the divorce.

After her parents died, George had seized everything—the company, the shares, and the properties. The only thing left to Maeva and Matthew was this villa.

She'd moved out when she married David, and now, she was moving back in.

As she stepped into the living room, a heavy stench of alcohol hit her. She found empty bottles, cigarette butts, and party streamers littering the floor. There were several decks of poker cards and piles of chips—everything was strewn about. The place looked like a dump.

Matthew was sprawled out on the couch, snoring loudly, his arm serving as a pillow for a woman in a spaghetti-strap dress.

A spark of fury flared in Maeva's chest. She grabbed an empty bottle from the floor and smashed it hard against the coffee table. The sharp, explosive crash jolted the pair on the couch awake.

Matthew shot up, looking bleary. "What happened? What just blew up?"

"I'm about to." Maeva eyed him.

"Huh? Oh, Mae." Matthew actually looked relieved when he saw it was her. "You're back. Sit… sit wherever."

He was about to lie back down again. Maeva lunged forward, grabbed him by the collar, and yanked him upright. Then, she looked straight at the woman. "Why are you still here?"

"Who the hell are you?" She glared back, annoyed. "Matty, didn't you say I was your only one?"

"Get lost. She's my sister—my actual sister," he snapped.

The woman slunk off in embarrassment.

Matthew, still not fully sober, slumped on the couch and yawned. "You came alone? Where's David? Didn't he come with you?"

"We're divorced," Maeva said.

"Yeah, right. Quit messing around." He waved a hand dismissively. "You've been head over heels for him since you were a kid. How could you ever let go?"

"It's real this time."

Matthew's eyes slowly widened as he stared at Maeva. "Did you lose your mind?"

"I think you're the one who's lost his mind!" she shot back. "You drink yourself stupid every day, party, sleep around, and do absolutely nothing. Are you just planning to waste your life like this? Are we really going to let our family stay ruined forever?"

Back when George had taken over the family business, he'd claimed that Matthew and Maeva were too young. They were minors who knew nothing about running a company, leaving him with no choice but to take charge.

But after they'd both reached adulthood, it became clear that Matthew was utterly hopeless. Any project he invested in had blown up in his face, hemorrhaging money. He was clueless in business, but when it came to drinking, partying, and fooling around, he was an expert.

As for Maeva, she'd gotten married right after graduation. George had said that a married daughter was no longer part of the family, so she had no right to get involved in the Pearson family's business at all.

"It's not like I don't want to get my act together," Matthew grumbled. "I'm just not cut out for this. What am I supposed to do? Besides, David just stood by and watched all these years. He hasn't helped me out at all.

"Maybe you should take a good look at yourself. Your darling husband can shower the Fulton family with help, but he can't throw his brother-in-law a bone?"

His words hit Maeva right where it hurt. With David's capabilities, just crumbs falling from between his fingers were enough to make the people who caught the crumbs rich. Still, he had never once lent Matthew a hand.

The resentment in Matthew had been building for years. Eventually, he'd just given up on himself altogether and let things go to hell.

"And that Alaina Fulton is trouble," he went on. "So what if she saved his life? You're his lawfully wedded wife. Why didn't you sweet-talk him in bed and get me a few deals or something? You two are supposed to be childhood sweethearts. Doesn't he care about that bond at all?"

Maeva said, "Alaina's back."

"What?" Matthew jerked upright, suddenly alarmed. "We're screwed. Completely screwed! I've lost the advantage of being David's brother-in-law, and Alaina has stolen your place. There's really nothing left for us but to lie down and die."

"Matthew!" Maeva gritted her teeth. "We make our own way. We're not at the end of the road yet."

"You're planning on starting something yourself?"

"Yes." Her voice was firm. "Gather every contact and every resource you still have. I also want all your current project information. Put everything together into a detailed report for me. I'll take over whatever business deals you couldn't lock down."

She refused to believe that she couldn't do this. She wasn't inferior to anyone.

Matthew looked her over. "Do you even know what you're saying? You're not just up against David blacklisting you. You'll have George trying to crush you, too!"

"Just get me the files," Maeva said.

She only hated that she hadn't been born a man. If she had, she would've found a way to take back the family business a long time ago. She also hated that she'd been a lovesick fool who'd wasted five of her best years.

But it wasn't too late.

…

Maeva spent three full days sorting through every mess that had landed in Matthew's lap. She pushed hard on the projects that still had potential. The hopeless ones, she cut loose.

By day, she ran herself ragged, going from bank managers to project leads. She got doors slammed in her face over and over, but she didn't care. She kept going back again and again, just to secure a chance to talk.

At night, she sat in front of her laptop, organizing and refining the data until she could barely keep her eyes open.

Was she exhausted? Yes. But it still felt easier than loving David.

One morning, Maeva was about to head out when she received a phone call from Stanley White, the butler at the Cavendish residence.

"Mrs. Cavendish, Madam had a sudden attack last night. She was rushed to the emergency room. She's just woken up, and she keeps asking for you. Could you come over as soon as you can?" he asked.

"Of course. I'll be right there." Maeva immediately left for the hospital.

Linda's affection for her had always been sincere. After all, she was the one who'd arranged this marriage back in the day. She wanted David and Maeva to live happily together from the bottom of her heart.

Maeva hurriedly pushed the hospital room door open. The first thing she saw was David standing by the bed. He was there, too.

He shot her a cold glance, his lips pressed into a tight line. He still radiated his usual distant, aristocratic chill.