A polite, measured knock sounded at the door. “Talk later,” Julian said into the phone and hung up.
Soon, Chase came face-to-face with the head of the Sterling family. Julian was a late-in-life child for the old master of the family. Most people called him Mr. Julian Sterling out of respect, even those who were technically his elders. Chase was of the same generation, yet every time he saw him, he felt like he couldn’t breathe.
It wasn’t that Julian was ugly. On the contrary, generations of the powerful family marrying beautiful women had perfected the Sterling gene pool, and Julian’s looks were legendary. But the first thing that struck you about him wasn’t his face.
It was his aura.
He wore a tailored shirt, vest, and trousers, a picture of refined civility that somehow emanated immense power. His sleeves were casually rolled, held in place by black leather garters that constricted around his strong forearms, a visually arresting display of restrained strength. His features were sharp and aggressively handsome, his deep-set eyes holding a chilling indifference that made people instinctively fear him.
Charles was technically his senior, an uncle by relation, but he wouldn’t dare act like one. His voice was laced with deference as he reported on the company’s projects.
Chase stood silently to the side, unable to get a word in, secretly studying the man who was so powerful it defied description. Men, more than anyone, were drawn to power. He wondered if he would ever be as successful as Julian, the ruler of a business empire.
“Chase?”
His father’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts.
He quickly straightened, replying, “Yes.”
“Mr. Julian Sterling is asking you a question.”
Even Charles, an elder, didn’t dare be familiar. He addressed Julian formally as “Mr. Julian Sterling.”
Chase quickly looked at Julian. Their eyes met. Julian’s gaze was dark and profound, like the depths of the ocean, possessing a fatal allure, yet radiating an endless sense of danger. Chase didn’t even have the courage to hold his gaze for more than a second. “Mr. Julian Sterling,” he said respectfully.
Julian asked a few questions about a project. Thankfully, Chase had prepared and answered them all.
Julian gave a slight nod, commenting, “Good.”
Chase let out a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding, only then noticing that his shirt was soaked with sweat and sticking to his back.
Julian looked at him and said, his tone casual, “I heard from family that you’re married.”
“Yes,” Chase said quickly. “For three years.”
Julian’s long fingers picked up a gold-embossed invitation from his desk and slid it across.
“I’m hosting a party on my yacht this weekend. You should bring your wife.”
Both Charles and Chase were stunned into silence. An invitation from Julian was a golden ticket. This was an exclusive circle that few could ever hope to enter. And to have it personally extended by the man himself was an incredible honor.
They practically bowed their way out of his office, thanking him profusely.
Charles wiped the sweat from his forehead, knowing that their projects for the next year were secure.
Chase let out a long sigh of relief and immediately stepped aside to call Rosalie back.
Rosalie first went through her usual routine of feigned concern for him before getting to the point.
“How are things with you and Quinn? I just called her, and she said something about… wanting a divorce?”
“What?” Chase barked and froze, and then anger surged through him. “She said she wants a divorce?”
“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” Rosalie said, her voice a soothing balm. “What happened? Did you two have a fight?”
“No,” Chase said, yanking at his tie in frustration. “Rosalie, you know the person I love is…”
“Chase,” Rosalie cut him off smoothly. “You know I’ve always admired men who are responsible. Since you two are married, you have a duty to your marriage.”
“I know, but…”
“Quinn is my sister,” Rosalie continued. “If you’re not her husband, then we can’t have any kind of relationship. Do you understand?”
Chase understood. But he couldn’t accept it.
“Rosalie, if it weren’t for her, you and I would be together! We’re the ones who should be together!”
“But you’re married to her, aren’t you?” Rosalie sighed softly. “Chase, if you still care about my feelings at all, you will love her properly and spend the rest of your life with her. Promise me, will you?”
Rosalie was always so gentle and so understanding. Faced with this version of her, Chase was filled with a mixture of adoration and heartache, which only fueled his hatred for Quinn. Rosalie is always thinking of Quinn. But Quinn is selfish, vicious, and pathetic! Not only that, but she lies, trying to twist the past and claim Rosalie is the one behind all those terrible things she has done. As if! Rosalie is pure, innocent, and kind. She will never do something like that.
Honestly, he wanted a divorce, too. But Rosalie was against it.
And now Julian knew he was married and had invited both him and his wife to a party. Causing a scene with Quinn right now would be a disaster.
Suppressing his frustration, Chase softened his voice and replied, “Rosalie, you know I’ve always listened to you. Even when you told me to marry her…”
Rosalie interrupted him again, “I simply laid out the pros and cons. The decision to marry her was yours.”
“But I did it for you…”
“Chase, I have to run. We’ll talk later. You and Quinn need to work things out. Promise me.”
Chase hung up the phone and stormed toward home. How dare Quinn mention divorce! She is the one who has shamelessly chased after me, begging me to marry her. And now she has the audacity to ask for a divorce? She is the one initiating it? No way!
Quinn was at the window, sketching a design. The house was warm, heated to a comfortable seventy-eight degrees Fahrenheit, and she wore a simple, long cotton dress that brushed her ankles. Her hair was loose down her back, with a single strand falling from behind her ear to trace her cheek. The afternoon sun spilled through the windowpanes, bathing her in a soft, ethereal light, as if afraid to disturb the quiet moment of focused tranquility.
For a split second, watching the woman so absorbed in her work, Chase was mesmerized.
If he was being honest, Quinn’s features, her proportions, and her unique beauty were far superior to Rosalie’s. She had a striking, vibrant look, with bright eyes and a perfect smile. She could outshine any celebrity without a drop of makeup.
Chase remembered a time, before Rosalie was found, when Quinn was the girl he had secretly adored most. But after Rosalie came home, Quinn, driven by jealousy, had done one cruel and petty thing after another. She had tried to deny it, to claim she wasn’t responsible. Who would believe that?
His affection for her had slowly withered and died.
But even now, he couldn’t deny that Quinn was beautiful. What good was beauty, though? His love wasn’t so shallow. If his devotion to Rosalie wasn’t so absolute, he might have succumbed to the temptation. Three years without touching her was a testament to his loyalty to Rosalie. Sometimes, he even impressed himself.
He snapped back to the present, anger flaring as he strode toward her.
“Quinn!”
She turned at the sound of his voice. The sunlight danced in her hair, enveloping her in a soft halo. Her features seemed to be veiled in a soft mist, making her look impossibly, breathtakingly beautiful.
Quinn gathered her sketches from the table, asking, “What is it?”
She wasn’t satisfied with her work anyway; her mind was elsewhere. She was planning to go out to buy fabric and thread to make the comforters for Rosalie. She still couldn’t bring herself to ignore her sister’s requests. After all, Rosalie’s parents had raised her.
“Did you call Rosalie? Did you tell her we’re getting a divorce?” Chase yelled as he leaned over the table, his voice a low accusation.
Quinn met his gaze, retorting, “You don’t love me. What’s the point of this marriage?”
Chase’s hand shot out, grabbing her chin. His voice was ice.
“I don’t love you. You’re just figuring that out now? You should have never married me in the first place!”
“You’re right,” she said quietly. “I regret it.”
Staring at her exquisite face, at the sweep of her long lashes, Chase felt a surge of irritation.
“You regret it? I’m the one who should have regrets!”
He let her go and paced the room, ripping his tie off and throwing it aside. “If it wasn’t for you, I might have been with Rosalie by now!” he barked.
Quinn turned her gaze to the window. “She would have never been with you,” she said softly.
“That’s because of you! You’re the reason she drew a line between us!”
“No,” Quinn argued and shook her head. “She doesn’t love you.”
“What did you say?” Chase yelled and slammed his fist on the table. “Don’t you dare say that!”
Quinn looked up at him, the words on the tip of her tongue, but she swallowed them. Three years of this marriage had taught her a lot.
She was no longer the naive, clueless girl she used to be.
Rosalie would never marry Chase. He was beneath her.
The Lane family wasn’t a dynasty, but Elaine and her husband were university professors who moved in respectable circles. After Rosalie was found, Quinn had a small group of childhood friends, Chase among them. One by one, they had all drifted away from Quinn, drawn to the “lost and found” sister. At the time, Quinn had felt hurt, but she never complained. She had been conditioned to believe that Rosalie deserved all the good things in the world after her ordeal.
It was only now, years too late, that she understood it had all been a calculated game by Rosalie. She had never been jealous of Rosalie for being the biological daughter. It was Rosalie who, from the moment she returned, had looked at Quinn like an enemy.
Sometimes Quinn even wondered if her marriage to Chase was also part of Rosalie’s plan. But she couldn’t figure out why. Rosalie didn’t want Chase, but she could have easily kept him dangling as a backup, completely devoted to her. Rosalie was more than capable of that; she had stolen all of Quinn’s friends in a single year. There was no need to make him marry her sister, cutting off all possibility of a future romance.
Unless Rosalie had another motive.
Quinn knew her sister well enough now to understand that Rosalie never did anything without a purpose.
So, by asking for a divorce, had she inadvertently threatened one of Rosalie’s interests?
What could it be?
Quinn wasn’t sure if her suspicions were right, but she was certain of one thing: Rosalie didn’t like her. She hated her.
But what could she do? She had been adopted by Rosalie’s parents. They had given her a second chance at life. That was a debt she could never repay. And Rosalie was their only child, once lost and now cherished like the most precious jewel. What complaints could Quinn possibly voice?
As a child, Quinn would have willingly given Rosalie everything she owned, even without being manipulated. She, too, had pitied the girl who had suffered so much. But Rosalie had taken everything from her by force. Quinn hadn’t understood it then, but she did now. It was too late.
She had wasted three years of her life on Chase.
Now, it was time for it to end.
“Let’s not talk about that,” she said, rising to her feet, the long dress swirling around her ankles. “Chase, let’s get a divorce.”
“In your dreams!”
Quinn looked at him, surprised. She had expected him to be relieved. Why was he reacting like this?
The words had escaped his lips before he could stop them. He paused, then a cold smirk spread across his face.
“You want a divorce, so we get a divorce? You think you’re the one who calls the shots here?”
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.