Chapter 2 CHA

The attorney was still there, gazing impatiently at me. "Miss Whitmore, simply have a glance at the contract. I have no time to lose!"

The attorney's attitude was clear enough. For three years of marriage, everyone in Edward's social circle had been respectful towards me. But here, now, the attorney's attitude was cold and merciless. The fact was apparent that this was actually Edward's desire.

I held the divorce settlement in my hand and my gaze shifted to the area regarding the division of property. My eyes welled up as I read what was stated, "All property was Edward Harrington's prior to marriage and so shall be exempt from the division."

Edward had previously informed me that I was everything to him and everything that belonged to him was mine. However, within the span of just three years, our love ceased to be. Had Edward finally revealed his true nature?

He cheated behind my back and even got the mistress pregnant! So as the sinful wife, shouldn't I make way? My resentment in heart was to the extreme. I stopped reading the contract and looked at the lawyer, who was staring at me blankly. "Hand over a pen!"

The lawyer reached into his briefcase and pulled out a pen and handed it to me. After I took the pen, he stated, "Mr. Harrington has told us that you can't have any of the jewelry that he bought for you!"

I sat blankly staring ahead of me and did not react for a very long period of time. Just when the lawyer anticipated that I would reject him, I paused and slowly stated, "Okay!"

In the same motion, I seized the pen and signed my name to the divorce contract.

The lawyer took the divorce contract and read it for a second before proceeding to leave.

Outside the hospital parking lot lay a black Aston Martin. The window rolled down, revealing the good-looking, brooding face of Edward Harrington. The lawyer rushed to the vehicle and proclaimed respectfully, "Mr. Harrington, madam has signed it!"

"Did she sign it?" Edward spoke in a slow manner, focusing on the face of the lawyer with his acute stare.

Observing his confused face, the lawyer felt slightly nervous and thought that he should say something. But he could not speak a word. Edward turned his back towards the lawyer and turned his eyes away from the evening sky. After a while, he said, "You can leave!"

Three years have gone by.

The night was lovely. In Bristol, high-end cars came to the Azure Willow Hotel. A mob of reporters were waiting at the main entrance, all set with their arms - cameras.

This evening, the Parableutions had hosted a party at the hotel and had invited Bristol business moguls to attend. The journalists were aware of this and had gathered here, ready to get any news-generating information.

Around eight at night, a Maybach, one of the most luxurious cars, arrived.

"It's Mr. Whitfield! Mr. Whitfield of the Parableutions has arrived!" The journalists immediately pulled out cameras and approached him.

Oliver Whitfield was dressed in a white suit. He came out of the car with a raised eyebrow smile. Meanwhile, Phoebe Lancaster, a gorgeous supermodel, came out of the other side of the car in a strapless evening gown. Oliver led her by the hand and they posed extravagantly in front of the paparazzi.

I sat in the front passenger seat embracing a briefcase around me. I was looking at Oliver and Phoebe through the car window, wondering to myself, "What the hell? Is Oliver crazy?" It was a party, yet he required my presence as his assistant. What an agony.

Before I could even say a word in my heart, the driver reminded me politely, "Miss Whitmore, get down from the vehicle. Mr. Whitfield will be unhappy if you're late!"

I groaned. Holding the briefcase in my arms tightly, I flung open the car door with a sulky face.

Oliver, strolling hand in hand with Phoebe, had already reached the hotel entrance. I quickened my steps to catch up with him. The instant I reached the entrance, one of the reporters behind me called out, "It's Edward Harrington! Edward Harrington is here too!"

At the mention of the name, Edward Harrington, my head turned around like a reflex action. A sleek Aston Martin gently stopped in front of the main entrance of the hotel. The security personnel advanced and opened the car door with respect.

Edward stepped out of the car in a black suit. He was as lively and his presence was as commanding as ever, whether three years before or three years from then.

For a second, the guard opened the car door on the other side, and Imogen Clarke stepped out of the car slowly smiling with a smile on her lips. She was dressed in a hot red evening dress.

"Wow! Such a beautiful couple!"

"Totally! One is the secretary's daughter, and the other is a business magnate. They are perfect for one another!"

All sorts of things were being said about them individually. I scowled at the adored-by-all couple in distaste. "A cheating man and his manipulative half-sister? Naturally, they're perfect!" I assumed.

I didn't want to set eyes on this despicable pair at all. I immediately spun around to follow Oliver.

Oliver and Phoebe had already entered the lift by then. Seeing the fact that the lift was about to close, I ran as fast as possible.

At the moment when the lift was actually closing, I stretched out my hand and managed to stop the door from shutting completely. Oliver sneered at me getting into the lift. "Miss Whitmore, do you derive pleasure in frightening other people?"

"I'm sorry!" I glanced down and apologized.

Oliver released a cold snort. "Do keep up properly next time. In case you do something like this again, I'll sack you!"

"Yes, sir, I'll keep it in mind!" I replied.

Seeing that my demeanor was acceptable, Oliver could not find a reason to be upset. He simply grumbled at me and dropped me off.

The lift suddenly stopped at the 18th floor. Oliver exited the lift with his arm draped around Phoebe's waist. I followed close behind him, briefcase wrapped tightly in my arms. Oliver nodded at me when we reached the entrance of the main hall and snarled at me, "Wait for me in the lounge and stay on call. If I cannot contact you, half your monthly bonus will be lost!"

"Yes, Mr. Whitfield. I understood!" I replied.

Seeing Oliver and Phoebe having gone into the hall, I went around and went straight to the lounge and breathed a sigh of relief.

The lift on the other side of the hallway beeped as the doors opened wide, and out came Edward and Imogen. Edward's eyes were scanning the hallway as he saw me, who was opening the door to the lounge. Edward hesitated and asked himself, "Was that her?"

"No, she disappeared for three years. How could she be here? I must be dreaming!" Edward told himself.

Having noticed Edward gazing at the other end of the corridor, Imogen, who was beside him, turned around in that direction. She was amazed because there was absolutely nothing. "Edward, what are you looking at?"

"Nothing. Let's go!" Edward said, gathering himself.

I had been stuck in the waiting lounge for more than an hour, and my stomach was growling with hunger. Oliver was such a sadist. There he was, with a beautiful woman wrapped in his arms, sipping wine and an elegant buffet. But because he was my boss, I was to starve here. What an inhuman capitalist!

And as I was grumbling in my mind again, Oliver summoned me and said, "Go to the hall and have something to eat. Mind what I have said. Don't run, walk, or look around! After you have eaten, just return to the lounge and remain there waiting for me!"

"Yes, Mr. Whitfield!" I answered.

I opened the door and headed straight into the hall. The people in the hall were the classy, rich, and powerful. I just looked at them and headed straight to the buffet area.

I took a glass of juice and selected a plate of food. When I was about to seat myself to eat, a voice shouted behind me. "Bring me some food!"

The arrogant tone was somehow familiar. I turned around and noticed a woman, whose face was made up heavily, standing right in front of me. "Isn't she Imogen's best friend, Hannah Bennett?" I presumed.

Hannah was also shocked when she saw me too. Since I was wearing a working attire, Hannah instantly assumed that I was a waitress. However, the instant our eyes met, Hannah was shocked that I turned out to be Clara Whitmore!

"It's you?" exclaimed Hannah.

I ignored Hannah and kept walking out with my lunch. Hannah was stunned, but she collected herself in a split second and caught hold of me. "Are you a waiter here? Ha ha! I'm killing myself laughing!" Hannah jeered.

"Is it that funny?" I replied frostily.

"Of course, Clara. Weren't you really snooty prior to this? Tsk, tsk. And now you're just a waitress. Well, things certainly can turn around in a split second. This has to be your genuine experience, don't it? Get on with it now and bring me some grub!"

Hannah acted as if she had finally gained power over me. She never tolerated me earlier. I was beautiful, highly blessed, and chivalrous as well. I simply seemed to have it all. Since I had been rejected by Edward and ended up being an ordinary waitress, Hannah had to find a means of embarrassing me.

I was completely disgusted by the manner in which Hannah acted. I circumvented her to leave, not wishing to appear silly fighting with a bully like her.

But why would Hannah let me go? She had waited for it, anyway. "Clara, do you really dare defy me? Do you not suppose that I can have someone fire you?" Hannah tried to scare me.

"You want to dismiss me? Oh, Miss Bennett, you certainly think quite a lot of yourself!" I snapped.

"How can you insult me?" Hannah stamped her foot in anger. She was seething with rage. Before, she had not dared play around with me because I was the wife of Edward and Edward was so jealous of me. But now, things were different. Without Edward, I was just a lowly waitress. To crush me would be no different than stepping on an ant.

"I'll let the boss know straight away and have her fire you!" Hannah yelled.

"What's happening, Hannah?" A gentle voice interrupted.

"Imogen, you've just arrived. Observe this individual!" Hannah nodded in my direction, taunting.

I held Imogen's eyes firmly, staring straight into her face. Imogen was obviously shocked. "How is Clara here?" she was thinking.

Imogen was thoroughly shocked inside, but she did not show it. She put on a smile instead and said, "Hello, sister!"

I shot her a cold stare and said, "Miss, had you dialled the wrong number?"

"Dear sister, I know that you are still bitter against me, but it was not my doing. It was Edward who liked me."

Although three years had already lapsed, it was not bearable for me to reminisce about the past. I did not want my painful past to be disclosed to anyone, so I turned around and departed.

Since Imogen came to stay, Hannah had obviously grown bolder. She sprinted over to me and pushed me forcefully, and I spilled all of the juice over my self. Hannah caught some of the juice on her, so she wailed, "Hey, look what you did!"

When Hannah said that, she was radiating triumph. I was sure Hannah had indeed treated me like a waitress for the sole purpose of disgracing me so that I could be fired.

My eyes were dark with anger. If it were earlier, I would have slapped Hannah right in the face. But now, I was no longer Mrs. Harrington, who had Edward's love. Reminiscing about it, I kept the anger in my heart under control and left.

Seeing that I did not resist, Hannah glared at Imogen. She continued to grab my hair and poured a glass of red wine directly on my neck.

The cold red wine trickled down along the neck, dampening my clothes. Not knowing if it was done intentionally or not, Hannah had shoved me to Imogen, who withdrew her hand and poured another glass of wine on my face.

My eyes were burning with anguish. I had hoped to compromise and leave, but because I noticed that Hannah was stubborn, anger lodged in my heart. Hannah and Imogen stood as one. As they acted towards me, it seemed this would not be of a good result. I was not temper-less. The ploy Hannah used was the same as Imogen's. They were planning to defame me all over again. If they wanted to make me the bad guy anyway, why should I even be nice?

Since I was now furious, I took the plate of food I had in hand and spilled it on Hannah's head.

Hannah screamed. She did not expect that I would go ahead and do something like that. I had a liking for hot and spicy food, and so my plate was filled with hot and spicy food. The sauce ran down Hannah's hair and had run quickly into her eyes. The sensation was very uncomfortable. Hannah let out a scream in pain and let go of my hair at that instance.

Ignoring Hannah's outcry, I slapped Imogen across the face. Imogen was completely flabbergasted. Her face burned with rage; she never imagined that I could be so brutal. I carelessly splattered the remaining sauce on my plate onto Imogen, staining her designer high-class evening gown, which was crafted by a renowned designer.

Suffering in anguish, Imogen began screaming, even disregarding her reputation, "Come! Somebody come here!"