




Chapter 1 The Absurd Marriage
"Henry, let's get a divorce."
Grace Windsor's eyes were red and teary as she looked up at Henry Montague, who was busy drying his hair. She couldn't hold it in any longer.
Henry froze. His cold eyes showed a flicker of surprise, but mostly disdain.
He grabbed a pack of cigarettes from the table, shook one out, and lit it, completely ignoring Grace. A few moments later, thin smoke filled the air.
Grace watched him quietly. "Henry, did you hear me?"
"Did you take the pill?" he asked, not really caring.
Grace nodded. She always did when she was with Henry. He wouldn't let her have his child.
She had loved him for six long years. Maybe it was karma. The accident she caused years ago forced him to marry her, and he had hated her ever since.
Every time they were together, there was no tenderness. Even if she cried out in pain, Henry showed no mercy, his cruelty only intensifying as if her suffering fueled his desire.
Henry, satisfied with her response, crushed the cigarette and stood up, dropping the towel in front of Grace, revealing his perfectly sculpted, mist-covered muscles.
Grace was confused, but the next second, Henry leaned over, grabbed her hands, and pinned them above her head. His other hand moved to her throat, tightening his grip and choking her.
His face was close to her ear, his voice heavy, "Divorce? Don't you find that word funny? Do you want something? Or are you just craving it again?"
Grace felt the heat of his breath behind her ear, making her itch and her heart race.
In these six years, Henry knew everything about her, including all her sensitive spots. Whenever he was teasing her, he would do so.
Her throat constricted painfully, and she shook her head, tears spilling over her flushed cheeks. "Henry, please... I can't... breathe..."
Henry looked at Grace's delicate, pained expression, feeling a strange excitement, but he let go, his expression still cold. "If you need anything, report it to Celeste. I'll approve it."
Meeting her somewhat resentful eyes, Henry ignored it, as if nothing about her concerned him. He slowly stood up, grabbed a belt, and fastened it.
To him, his delicate wife meant nothing. It was just an accident. As for divorce? He saw it as her trying to extort more benefits from him.
Grace sat on the bed, wiped her tears, and began to tidy her clothes. Meeting Henry's cold gaze, she knew her proposal for divorce had been ignored. For Henry, she was just a kept woman, even though she had been a renowned violinist before their marriage. No matter how much she fulfilled her duties as a wife over the years, she couldn't melt his icy heart.
Henry was picky about food, so she spent years learning to cook. He would come home a few times each month to eat.
He found the scent of perfume too strong, so she sought out perfumers for formulas and personally adjusted them to make it more pleasant for him.
She was like a full-time housewife, meticulously taking care of all of Henry's needs, but she knew Henry didn't love her.
"Henry, tomorrow is my birthday..." She seemed to be making a final struggle, her voice filled with pleading.
But Henry, as if seeing through her thoughts, coldly interrupted her, "Enough."
Grace looked at him, confused, meeting his sharp gaze. Henry also looked down at her, her eyes full of pleading and confusion, but he found it laughable.
He had to admit, Grace's delicate, pleading look was indeed charming, but to use her birthday as an excuse for a little benefit was pathetic.
Considering it was her birthday, he pulled out a check from the table, wrote down a number, and handed it to her. "Buy whatever you want."
In his mind, Grace was like a flower he kept, and his money was the water that nourished her. Wasn't that what she wanted? As long as her material desires were satisfied, she would be an obedient and qualified wife.
Grace stared blankly at the check in front of her, about to explain when Henry's phone rang.
This was his private phone, only accessible to those extremely close to him. Even she had to go through his assistant to get connected. But this time, it was a ringtone unique to one person.
She looked closely and saw the contact name displayed as "Elodie Williams."
She knew Elodie was one of Henry's lovers, and it had been going on for a long time.
A wave of bitterness washed over her. Tears welled up in her eyes, and a sense of defeat overwhelmed her. She never expected that her six years of effort would be repaid in this way. She now regretted her impulsiveness back then, which led to the current retribution.
She had just picked up the phone to hand it to Henry. But Henry, seemingly indifferent, tossed the check to her, took the phone from her hand, and his eyes softened as he looked at the screen.
Grace noticed the change in his expression, something she had never seen before.
It was her violin piece that had awakened Henry from his coma, but Henry had believed it was Elodie who played it. But the truth was known only to her.
However, none of that mattered anymore. The fact was, he didn't love her.
Henry, unconcerned that Grace was right beside him, answered the call, and a voice came through, "Mr. Montague, thank you for the birthday gift. I love it. May I have the honor of inviting you to spend my birthday with me?"
Henry didn't speak, just glanced back at Grace, showing no guilt for his actions.
Grace no longer cared about his private life, but she still wanted to make one last attempt. "Henry, tomorrow is my birthday too. I just want you to spend it with me."
Just this once.
Henry didn't respond, his eyes devoid of any tenderness, and he turned to leave.
Grace watched his firm back, each step, each motion, previously a painful tug on her heartstrings. But now, she no longer felt the same affection. She wanted to keep him, but she knew she couldn't. She just watched his emotionless back and said, "Henry, tomorrow is also our wedding anniversary."
He paused for a moment, then said into the phone, "I'll be right there," before giving her a cold look and leaving.
Moments later, the sound of a car engine starting downstairs reached her ears. Grace went to the balcony, looking out at the receding black Bentley, her heart filled with despair.
At that moment, a maid entered, glanced at Grace, her eyes showing no respect for her, and spoke flatly, "Mrs. Montague, a batch of Mr. Montague's clothes has arrived from the company. Will you wash and iron them yourself?"
Grace withdrew her gaze, turned, and slumped onto the bed, her expression dazed. "Yes, I'll wash them myself."
Henry disliked the smell of dry cleaning chemicals, so over the years, she had personally washed and ironed all his clothes.
The maid added, "Mr. Montague will be going to Harmony City for the next few days, so you don't need to prepare his meals."
Grace lowered her head and nodded, her eyes vacant as she looked out the window. She no longer knew how to face Henry.
Tears rolled down her delicate cheeks, dripping onto the check. The thought of Henry's tender care for Elodie made her heart ache.
Grace slowly hugged her knees, scanning the room, and began to sob quietly.
Two years ago, her family had fallen apart. Her brother, Oliver Windsor, had been imprisoned on charges, and her father, Nathan Windsor, had fallen ill, with monthly medical expenses exceeding a hundred thousand dollars. Her mother had passed away years ago, and her stepmother, Clara Smith, always complained whenever she visited home, asking why she hadn't gotten more money from Henry.
"Grace, you are the wife of Henry, the billionaire CEO of the Montague Group. Everything he has is yours. Even if he doesn't love you, you should have it all." Clara said.
But was it really as she said?
How could Henry be hers? Their marriage was just an accident, with no love, only sex. If it weren't for her still somewhat attractive face, there might not even be that.
Her phone buzzed with a message: [Grace, Oliver has been sentenced to ten years for the financial case. Your father has also fallen ill because of this, with a brain hemorrhage. He's in critical condition, needing a lot of money for surgery, or he will be at risk. Grace, can you ask Henry for some money?]
In an instant, the last bit of hope in Grace's heart shattered as she read the message on her phone.
The phone slipped from her fingers.