Chapter 3 The Fool Finally Woke Up

Cynthia curled her lips into a mocking smile and lazily leaned back against the sofa. "By tomorrow at the latest, he'll show up with a bouquet of roses. Maybe a limited-edition piece of jewelry, too. Then, he'll wag his tail like a dog, doing everything he can to win me over. The last time we fought, he came running back to pick me up less than three hours later."

I heard every word Cynthia said, for her best friend had called me on WhatsApp the moment Cynthia started talking.

Her friend was no better, really. She was always encouraging Cynthia to see Grant, all because she held a grudge against me for refusing to introduce her to a scion.

After hearing Cynthia speak with such absolute certainty, I sneered inwardly. 'She's got quite the confidence, believing that I'd go crawling back to her and apologize. If she thinks I'd fall apart without her… Bitch!"

…

After Cynthia signed the divorce agreement, she handed it back to my lawyer and told him to take it away.

"Take it back to him. Tell him I'm furious, and this time, there's no talking me down. Unless he apologizes on his knees and begs me, I'm not forgiving him."

My lawyer looked at her, speechless, thinking, 'This woman really thinks she's God's gift to men.'

What she did not know was that while I listened to her talk, I was sitting there wholly accepting the blind dates my mother had arranged for me.

I even called my assistant and told him to freeze all of Cynthia's bank cards. After all, we were divorced now. Why should I keep giving her money to spend?

While Grant was still alive, she had constantly used my money to help him.

When his business failed, she took 100 million from one of my accounts and gave it to him so he could start over, without even discussing it with me. When I found out, we fought for the first time. Instead of feeling guilty, she called me petty, questioning why a wealthy heir like me could possibly be so stingy.

And that was not even the worst of it.

She had treated my money like a bottomless pit, using it to buy houses and cars for her family. When I finally could not take it anymore, she had argued that her family was my family too and accused me of being petty over money.

At the time, we were only dating, nowhere close to getting married.

Her parents, meanwhile, had pretended to be generous by putting only my name on the deeds, all while quietly calculating how to secure their future. They had assumed that once their daughter married me, they would be able to manipulate me whenever they wanted.

It was not just the houses they had their eyes on—they wanted the company to bear the Brooke name, too.

They had mocked me to my face for being a fool while spending my money without the slightest bit of guilt. Now, I had to thank them for putting only my name on everything back then. It made it that much easier for me to take back every house and car I had given them.

…

When Cynthia went to pay the bill, she finally discovered that her bank cards had been frozen. Furious, she called me immediately. "Lysander, why did you freeze my cards? Don't push it! I've put up with you for long enough."

Even through the phone, I could feel the fury radiating from Cynthia.

"Get over here and pay the bill right now. Otherwise, I'm not coming home tonight, and you'll regret it."

I laughed upon hearing that.

She had been drinking herself silly for Grant, and she had even opened several bottles of expensive red wine with her friends. She loved another man, yet she was using my money to entertain that whole pack of freeloaders.

"Didn't your friends say I'm not as good as Grant? They don't want my money anyway. So why don't you have that whole group of friends of yours, the ones who supposedly don't care about worldly possessions, pay the bill for you?"

Apparently, something in what I said immediately told Cynthia that she had me wrapped around her little finger again.

"So, you're still jealous about what happened last time. You really are narrow-minded. How are you ever going to get anywhere in life with so little tolerance? If you had even half of Grant's generosity, why would I always have to give you attitude? Maybe you should spend some time reflecting on yourself."

What exactly was I supposed to reflect on? If Cynthia had only been someone I was casually dating rather than my wife, I would have been more generous than Grant ever was.