Thirty Years Of Marriage I Thought Was A Mistake Chapter 02

Thirty Years Of Marriage I Thought Was A Mistake Chapter 02

The comments immediately exploded.

[What? Mr. Prescott said it isn’t Vanessa. Then who is it?]

[I distinctly remember Mr. Prescott having a first love he could never forget. He spent years pursuing her!]

[Even if it isn’t Vanessa, there’s no way it could be the female supporting character. They come from completely different worlds.]

I still hadn’t recovered from the shock by the time the car pulled up outside my apartment building.

Adrian didn’t offer any further explanation. He simply leaned back against the seat and watched me, his dark, fathomless gaze giving nothing away.

I pushed open the door and got out. Only then did I finally manage to say what I had been holding in for the entire ride.

“Mr. Prescott, I’m already in love with someone. You really don’t have to pursue a relationship with me just because we slept together.”

I wasn’t lying.

The person I loved was him, and I had loved him for thirty years.

I simply didn’t want to stand in his way again in this life.

The hand resting on Adrian’s knee suddenly curled into a fist. His knuckles turned white.

After a long silence, he ordered the driver coldly, “Drive.”

The Maybach sent rainwater spraying from beneath its tires and quickly disappeared into the storm.

I pressed a hand against my chest. A dull, heavy ache had settled there.

Once I got home, I lay on my bed and turned the black card over and over between my fingers.

I was going to be laid off in a few days, so I needed to secure some kind of future for myself.

A few rental properties would be perfect. The income would keep me from starving while I wrote full time, and I wouldn’t have to fight rush-hour traffic for a nine-to-five.

I stared at the card.

Half a million dollars in hush money wouldn’t be too much to ask, would it?

Adrian was a billionaire. He probably wouldn’t care.

The next morning, I was browsing real estate listings on the reception desk computer when a syrupy voice interrupted me.

“Hello, Ms. Miller.”

I looked up.

Vanessa stood on the other side of the desk in a white dress, her makeup flawless. She looked exactly like the elegant, unattainable first love I had imagined Adrian carrying in his heart.

[Our girl has entered the chat! She’s finally here to put the female supporting character in her place!]

“Hello. Do you have an appointment?” I asked politely.

“I’m here to see you.”

“I’m working right now. We can talk after noon,” I said earnestly. “My shift ends in half an hour. You can sit over there while you wait.”

Vanessa’s smile froze. Her fingers tightened around her purse so hard that her nails nearly dug into the leather.

When my shift finally ended, she wanted to take me to the French café next door.

I shook my head.

“Let’s go to the diner down the block. I only have a thirty-minute lunch break.”

Her polished expression nearly cracked, but she gritted her teeth and followed me anyway.

I ordered two plates of sliders and a bowl of chicken noodle soup, then looked up at her.

“Aren’t you hungry?”

“I have rather high standards when it comes to food,” she said, her tone faintly superior.

After a brief pause, she got straight to the point.

“I know what happened between you and Adrian. I’m not here to tell you to stay away from him.”

I took a bite of a slider and looked at her.

“You know how seriously Adrian takes his obligations. The more you reject him, the guiltier he’ll feel. I want you to cling to him and act like a shameless, money-hungry gold digger until he can’t stand you.”

The comments immediately started pouring in.

[Vanessa is a genius! This plan is perfect. Mr. Prescott will finally get sick of the female supporting character!]

[Is our girl really the first love he never forgot? If she is, why does she have to work this hard?]

I chewed for a moment, thinking it over.

It was actually a good plan.

It would save me the trouble of finding another way to cut ties with Adrian for good.

But one question remained.

“Why should I listen to you?”

Some of the warmth vanished from Vanessa’s smile.

“Your mother is the senior-class adviser at Westfield High School, isn’t she? She’s currently a finalist for State Teacher of the Year. What do you think would happen to her reputation if people found out her daughter had slept with a billionaire to get her hands on his money?”

Even I wasn’t slow enough to miss the threat.

I set down my fork.

I had been about to tell her that none of this was necessary because Adrian was in love with her. Then I remembered what he had said in the car the day before.

I picked up my fork again and continued eating.

“Is there anything else? If not, I’d like to finish my lunch.”

Vanessa stood.

“You’d better do what I told you.”

She turned and walked away.

I watched her leave, then slowly took another bite of my slider.

I would do it, but not for her.

After work, I passed an aging condominium complex and remembered that a developer would buy out the entire property for redevelopment in three months. Every owner would receive three times the current market value.

I found a nearby realtor and paid cash for all ten units currently listed for sale.

Then I poured money into every stock I remembered had skyrocketed in my previous life.

I also donated three million dollars in Prescott Holdings’ name to the local school district’s education foundation, earmarking it for need-based college scholarships for low-income seniors at my mother’s school.

Less than a week later, I added everything up.

Apparently, I had spent almost thirty million dollars.

Even the comments were stunned.

[Holy shit, I can’t believe this. She’s spent almost thirty million dollars, and the card still hasn’t been frozen?]

[Did she put Adrian under some kind of spell? That’s thirty million dollars!]

[Can someone please tell me who Adrian is actually in love with? The suspense is killing me!]