Chapter 7
Margaret’s sobs grew louder, as though she might collapse at any moment. Her dramatic act pulled at Terrence’s attention, and he quickly reached out, pulling her into his arms.
“Valerie, what’s wrong with you?” he snapped, his voice sharp with frustration. “Can’t you talk nicely?”
Valerie stood frozen, watching the scene unfold in front of her. She could feel the familiar ache in her chest as she saw Terrence’s protective hold on Margaret, but she refused to let her emotions show. Instead, she responded calmly, her voice betraying none of the turmoil inside her.
“I don’t need her to move out,” Valerie said, her words slow but steady. “I paid half of the down payment for this house. All I need from you is to give me back that money. In cash.”
Valerie had been dreading how to handle this marital home for months, but now, she didn’t have to stress over it anymore. The matter was clear, practical. And that was all she could handle now.
Terrence looked at her, his expression shifting. Valerie’s sudden shift to reasonableness caught him off guard. It was exactly the response he expected in some ways—but it still made him feel uneasy. There was something about it that didn’t sit right in his gut.
“No problem,” he said quickly, brushing aside the discomfort. “I’ll have Theodore transfer the money to you later.”
“Okay,” Valerie replied, her tone flat, not giving him any further satisfaction.
With that, she turned on her heel and left the villa without another glance, without hesitation.
Terrence watched her walk away, but there was an unfamiliar, fleeting panic that struck his chest. It was so quick, so sharp, that he didn’t have time to understand it. He pushed the feeling down, convincing himself that it didn’t matter.
Valerie would calm down. She always did.
That afternoon, Valerie received 1.6 million dollars from Terrence. The money—twice what she had paid for the house—was transferred without so much as a word of explanation. It was almost too generous, even for him.
As she stared at the screen of her phone, she noticed a message from Terrence.
“I’ll pick you up tomorrow.”
It wasn’t an invitation or a request—it was a notification, as though he was giving her an order. The domineering tone, the assumption that she would comply without question, made Valerie’s lips tighten with disdain.
He had always been like this—treating their relationship as if it were secondary to whatever else was important to him.
Valerie didn’t take the message seriously. Instead, she put her phone away and returned to the preparations for her departure. She wasn’t interested in whatever plans Terrence had for her tomorrow. She had long passed the point of trying to understand his actions.
The next day at ten o’clock, a sleek black car appeared outside the villa. Valerie heard the engine’s hum as she looked out from the window, then turned her attention back to her packed bags.
When Terrence stepped out of the car, he seemed genuinely surprised when he saw her standing in front of the villa, ready to leave.
“Shouldn’t you be living in Foliage Villa?” he asked, his voice sharp with a hint of curiosity.
Foliage Villa, another one of his properties, was a place he had arranged for Valerie to live in during their third year of dating. He assumed that’s where she would be now, given the circumstances.
Valerie looked at him without answering immediately. Instead, she smiled faintly and replied, “I’ve decided to move out of all your places.”
She didn’t need to explain herself to him anymore.
