Chapter 13
Christina pushed Nathaniel away, feeling suffocated by his kiss. Her breath came in short bursts as she took a step back, glaring at him with frustration. “Enough, Nathaniel. Do you think this is fun? You can’t just treat me like your wife when it suits you and then ignore me for three years when you don’t!”
Her voice was firm, but beneath it, there was a deep sense of hurt and betrayal. A woman’s youth was precious, and she had already wasted too much of it. She couldn’t afford to stay tied down, especially when he had shown so little regard for her over the years. She had ambitions, dreams—things she had to pursue—and she refused to let him be the anchor that held her back.
Nathaniel’s expression shifted, and for a moment, there was something almost vulnerable in his eyes. “Whatever happened in the past was an accident. Let’s get to know each other again and stop talking about the divorce,” he said, his tone shifting to one of authority, but the seriousness in his voice couldn’t mask the underlying sense of regret.
Christina crossed her arms over her chest, the tension in her body evident. She let out a dismissive snort, her displeasure evident in the way she stood. “You really think it’s that simple? You think you can just erase everything and start fresh? It’s not that easy, Nathaniel.” Her words were sharp, but her voice wavered slightly, betraying the deeper emotions she tried to hide.
Nathaniel, as if unbothered by her irritation, walked over to her and gently grabbed her hand. His touch was tender, and for a moment, he seemed to genuinely want to make amends. “Many women dream of being my wife,” he said softly, his tone coaxing but still carrying that unmistakable authority. “But you’re the lucky one. You should cherish that.”
Christina stared at him, the words hanging in the air. He wasn’t wrong, of course. Being with him was a privilege in the eyes of many. But his prideful, almost possessive tone made her stomach turn. “I’m willing to let them take my place,” she said, her voice biting with sarcasm. “I don’t think there’s much to cherish here. All I’ve gotten is a life of frugality and loneliness. That’s not what I signed up for.”
Nathaniel’s expression hardened, his anger flaring. “Starving to death?” he repeated, his voice cold. “Is that how you see being my wife? That’s the most insulting thing I’ve ever heard.”
Christina didn’t back down. “Isn’t it true? I’ve been married to you for years and haven’t received a single penny. Working outside for three thousand a month is better than being your wife!” The words slipped out before she could stop them, and though she regretted the way they came across, she couldn’t deny the truth behind them.
Nathaniel’s gaze darkened, his fists clenched at his sides. “You think working for that amount is better than being with me? You’ve crossed a line, Christina,” he said, his voice low and dangerous.
Without another word, he called Sebastian, his voice sharp as he ordered, “Get in here.”
As soon as Sebastian entered, he could sense the heavy tension in the room. He stood quietly, waiting for the storm to pass.
“Why doesn’t Christina have any pocket money? Didn’t you arrange for this?” Nathaniel’s voice was a mix of disbelief and frustration.
Sebastian, caught off guard by the question, looked back at Nathaniel. “Mr. Hadley, didn’t you say not to worry about her finances except for household expenses?” He wasn’t sure what had sparked the sudden inquiry, but he answered as truthfully as he could.
Christina’s snort echoed in the room. See? I wasn’t wrong. She had spent the past few years living frugally—no real money, no real freedom. Just a glorified housewife with no say in her own life.
Nathaniel’s face flushed with anger. “All right. Get out of here,” he snapped, his voice final.
Sebastian quickly exited, sensing the volatile atmosphere.
The room fell silent, the air thick with unresolved tension.
Nathaniel, clearly upset, pulled a black card from his pocket and handed it to Christina. “From now on, you can buy whatever you want. Don’t live so frugally. As my wife, you deserve more than this.” His voice softened, but there was still a commanding undertone.
Christina’s eyes widened as she looked at the sleek black card in her hand. It gleamed under the light, almost glowing with an intimidating power. She had heard of these—black cards, exclusive and rare, granted only to those who had access to unimaginable wealth. She knew it was a symbol of status, of privilege.
She stared at it, her thoughts racing. This card is worth more than most people’s lifetime earnings. He’s giving it to me, but for what reason? Is it really an apology, or just a way to buy my silence?
Her lips parted, but she didn’t know what to say. Nathaniel’s gesture was grand, but it didn’t erase the years of neglect, the coldness, the pain. Money can’t fix everything, she thought bitterly, but her fingers curled around the card. The allure of it was undeniable, yet it left her with a bitter taste.