Chapter 2

Conor returned to the McCullough mansion after filing for divorce papers with a law firm.

The moment he stepped through the door, he ran into his impeccably made-up stepmother, Meredith McCullough.

When she saw him, she began making snide remarks.

"Conor, you're a married man now. Why do you keep coming back here? People are going to start talking if they see you.

"Oh, look at that! We just mopped the floor, and you've already dirtied it again. Gianna, get the mop and clean it up!"

Gianna hurried over with a mop and repeatedly scrubbed the patch of floor beneath Conor's feet, pressing the mop down over his shoes again and again to force him backward.

Conor caught the amusement in Meredith's eyes. He wasn't going to indulge her anymore. He planted his foot on the mop, seized the handle, and shoved it straight toward her face.

"Ah!" Meredith screamed in fright and stumbled backward.

Conor regarded her calmly. "Is anything as dirty as a homewrecker who destroyed her best friend's marriage?"

He cast a glance at her, his striking, vivid features twisted into a look of pure derision. With a cold, sharp laugh, he said, "You're not afraid of people gossiping about you for being the other woman. Why should I be afraid of coming back to my own home?"

His voice was light and quiet, but Meredith's face turned deathly pale with rage. She trembled all over. "Conor! What the hell is wrong with you now?"

His father, Brett McCullough, emerged from the study at the sound of the commotion. He hurried to support Meredith, who looked as though she might collapse, and glared at Conor.

"What are you shouting about? Every single time, you're the one who starts trouble! What exactly did you come back for? Spit it out, then get the hell out!"

Seeing his father protect that woman, Conor couldn't be bothered to waste any more time arguing. "I want the assets that belong to me and my mother."

Brett froze. His expression turned strange. "What assets belong to you and your mother? We're family. Everything belongs to all of us..."

When Conor didn't respond, Brett's face darkened. "How much do you want?"

"Dad, everything you have today is thanks to Mom! You owe your entire fortune to what she earned. It's not unreasonable for me to take the lion's share." Conor took a document from his bag and calmly listed a series of figures and company shareholdings.

"You've lost your mind!" Brett exploded. "Absolutely not!"

Conor remained unhurried, his tone almost casual. "Sign it, and I'll agree to the divorce. I'll give Damon my place as Kendra Sterling's husband.

"Think carefully. You know what the Sterling family is worth. What Damon stands to gain by marrying Kendra is worth far more than this."

Brett's eyes narrowed, and his cloudy eyes darted back and forth. He was clearly weighing his options.

After a long moment, he looked at Conor with suspicion. "Are you serious? You'll really divorce her?"

Conor laughed and nodded.

Brett let out a heavy breath. A short while later, his hand trembling, he signed the property division agreement Conor had brought. "You'd better keep your word!"

Conor picked up the agreement, a hint of hesitation crossing his eyes. "Actually, I'm starting to regret this. Maybe I don't want a divorce after all..."

Brett's expression twisted. He looked so furious he nearly collapsed. He pointed at Conor and stammered, "You... You..." but couldn't get another word out.

A cold, mocking smile spread across Conor's face. "I was just scaring you. Don't get so worked up. Someone like you, who betrayed his wife and abandoned her to keep a mistress, hasn't suffered your comeuppance yet. You can't die that easily."

He let out another cold laugh and turned away, no longer interested in looking at his father.

Just then, the mansion's front door swung open, and a familiar figure appeared.

Kendra.

Damon had his arm around her shoulders as they walked in, both wearing smiles. "Dad, Mom, we're home!"

Brett and Meredith immediately changed their attitudes. They hurried over to welcome Damon, fussing over him and asking how he was doing. Then they turned to Kendra, treating her with obsequious respect.

"Perfect timing! The food is ready. Kendra, why don't you stay for dinner?"

Kendra's gaze settled on Conor. She had returned to the McCullough mansion with Damon without telling him. Under normal circumstances, Conor would have exploded with anger.

She had already braced herself for his fury.

Instead, he simply took a document from his bag and held it out to her. "Since you're here, sign this."

Kendra quickly signed it. She was about to turn the page and read what she'd signed when Conor snatched the document away.

"What did I just sign?" Kendra asked, belatedly sensing that something was wrong.

Conor's voice was calm. "Nothing much. It's just something that'll let us settle everything between us and make us both happy."

Settle everything?

Conor had said it was something that would make them both happy, but looking at his calm expression, she couldn't bring herself to believe it was anything good.

Her heart began racing as anxiety and panic spread through her.

Before she could ask anything else, Damon took her by the hand and led her toward the dining table.

At dinner, Damon and Kendra naturally sat together on one side, while Conor sat alone across from them.

There were ten dishes on the table, and not a single one was something Conor could eat.

Kendra attentively served Damon food, peeled shrimp for him, and filled his bowl with soup. Every so often, she noticed out of the corner of her eye that Conor hadn't touched his cutlery, so she casually picked a nearby dish and placed some in his bowl.

If an outsider had walked in, they would never have guessed which man was actually her husband.

Conor's heart gave a slight lurch, and bitterness welled up in his chest.

In the past, he might have immediately lost his temper. He would have smashed the dishes, overturned the table, and demanded to know whom Kendra really loved. He would have grilled her on why she could never remember his preferences or why she insisted on being so close to Damon. He would have argued until her face turned livid and everyone at the table was miserable—only then would he have been satisfied.

But now, he merely moved the food Kendra had served him to the side and ate his plain peas, each bite as tasteless as the last.

After a few casual mouthfuls, he put down his cutlery, stood up, and left.

Watching his persistent, unsettling silence, a growing sense of unease stirred within Kendra. She couldn't shake the feeling that, in some way, he had become... different.