A New Beginning After Divorce

Linda Adams grappled with a disquieting question: was she living a lie? The evidence lay in her two mobile phones, a stark symbol of her divided life.

As Shane Harvey showered, a notification flashed across one screen – a selfie from his mistress.

The girl's youth was undeniable, her beauty striking. But the opulent clothing seemed to swallow her, creating an air of unease.

"[Mr. Shane, thank you for my birthday gift,]" the message read.

Linda stared, a knot tightening in her stomach. She'd long suspected another woman, but the girl's youth and naivete were a surprise, revealing a disturbing preference in her husband. A wave of sadness washed over her, mingled with guilt at intruding on his private world.

The bathroom door clicked open.

Shane emerged, droplets clinging to his sculpted physique. The white bathrobe highlighted his strong chest and defined abdominal muscles, a display of raw sensuality.

"Still looking?" he questioned, a hint of impatience in his tone.

He casually plucked the phone from her hand, his expression devoid of any embarrassment at being caught. Linda knew his confidence stemmed from his financial power; she was entirely dependent on him. Before their marriage, she'd been a celebrated violinist, a life now exchanged for domesticity.

The photo itself was insignificant. Her focus was elsewhere.

"Shane, there's something I need to discuss," she blurted as he moved to leave.

He paused, fastening his belt, his gaze lingering on her form. A flicker of desire crossed his face, perhaps recalling her submissive nature in bed. "Another round?" he murmured.

But such moments were fleeting, purely physical.

He had never truly valued her, their marriage a consequence of circumstance, not affection.

Shane's eyes wandered to a Patek Philippe watch on the dresser. Strapping it to his wrist, he said dismissively, "I have five minutes. The driver's waiting."

Linda knew his destination. "Shane," she said, her voice trembling, "I want to work."

His eyebrows arched. "Work?"

He stared at her, weighing her words. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a checkbook, scribbled an amount, and tore off the slip. "Isn't being a housewife enough? Work isn't for you."

He turned to leave.

Desperate, Linda followed, her pride eroding. "I'm not afraid of hard work! I want to play the violin again..."

He cut her off, his patience gone.

In his eyes, Linda was a delicate ornament, unsuited for the rigors of the world. He couldn't fathom her independent, struggling.

Shane glanced at his watch. "Time's up."

He walked out, leaving Linda grasping at the doorframe, pleading, "My father's birthday is Saturday. Will you come?"

He hesitated. "We'll see."

The door closed, the car starting moments later, the sound fading into the distance.

Shortly after, the maid appeared.

Sensing the distance between husband and wife, she acted as an intermediary. "Sir is going to California for a few days on business. And a batch of his laundry arrived. Would you like to send it out, or will you wash and iron it yourself?"

Linda sank onto the sofa, defeated.

Finally gathering herself, she whispered, "I'll wash it."

Shane disliked the chemical scent of dry cleaning. All of his garments, from suits to coats, were meticulously cared for by her hands.

His expectations extended beyond laundry.

He found outside food unpalatable and disliked clutter. Linda had become adept at cooking, organizing, flower arranging – a paragon of domestic perfection.

Her life had become solely defined by Shane.

Yet, his love remained elusive.

Linda stared at the check in her hand.

Her family's misfortunes – her brother's legal troubles, her father's expensive illness – had drained their resources. Her aunt constantly reminded her to extract more from Shane.

"He's the CEO of shane's Pharmaceutical, with billions at his disposal... Linda, you're his wife. What's his is yours!"

Linda managed a bitter smile.

He barely saw her. Their marriage was based on sex, not love. He even ensured she couldn't conceive, always reminding her to take her pills.

Yes, the pills.

Linda reached for the medication, swallowed one dryly.

Then, she opened a hidden drawer, revealing a thick diary filled with the girlish adoration of an 18-year-old Linda Adams–

Six years of loving him, completely and utterly.

Linda closed her eyes, a wave of despair washing over her.

Linda's wait for Shane proved futile. A major crisis struck the Adam's family on Friday night.

Reports indicated that Colt Adams, son of the Adam's family, faced a potential ten-year sentence due to financial crimes involving the Adams Group.

Such a lengthy sentence threatened to ruin his life.

That same night, Linda's father suffered a severe cerebral hemorrhage and was rushed to the hospital, needing immediate surgery.

Standing in the sterile hospital hallway,Linda frantically called Shane repeatedly, only to be met with silence. Just as despair began to set in, a WhatsApp message arrived from Shane.

His message, as always, was brief.

[Still in California. Contact Secretary Esther for assistance.]

Linda tried calling again. This time,Shane answered. "Shane, my father..." she began urgently.

Shane cut her off.

A hint of impatience laced his tone: "Do you need money? I've told you repeatedly, if it's an urgent matter involving funds, contact Secretary Esther... Linda, are you listening?"

......

Linda stared blankly at the electronic screen displaying the news.

[Shane's Pharmaceutical Group CEO Spends Extravagantly, Shutting Down Disney and Orchestrating a Firework Display for a Beauty's Delight.]

The screen showed a brilliant display of fireworks lighting up the sky.

A young woman, seated in a wheelchair, smiled sweetly. Standing behind her was her husband, Shane... He held his phone to his ear, seemingly engrossed in a conversation.

Linda blinked slowly, trying to comprehend what she was seeing.

After a long, drawn-out pause, her voice cracked as she asked, "Shane, where are you?"

He hesitated on the other end, sounding displeased by her inquiry, but replied dismissively, "Still busy. If there's nothing important, I'm hanging up. Contact Secretary Esther."

He failed to notice the tremble in her voice, his gaze instead fixated on the woman before him... his expression gentle, unusually gentle.

Linda's vision blurred with tears.

So, that's what Shane's gentle side looked like.

From behind, her stepmother, Beatrice Adams, approached, her voice filled with anxiety: "Have you reached Shane? Linda, you must get Shane to help with this..."

Beatrice's words faltered as she, too, noticed the scene unfolding on the screen.

After a long, quiet moment, Beatrice found her voice: "He's in California again? I just can't believe it, Linda. When Shane was in a coma, this woman, Maria Harris, woke him up with a violin? Even if that's true, is this an appropriate way to repay her?"

"He doesn't even remember your birthday!"

......

The more Aunt Beatrice spoke, the more agitated she became. The dire situation of the Adams family made her cry out in frustration. "But Linda... you have to endure this. Don't cause trouble with Shane now of all times."

Linda clenched her fists, her nails digging into her skin, but she felt no pain.

Cause trouble with Shane?

She wouldn't. Not because she understood the gravity of the situation as his wife, but because she lacked the standing to do so.

Without love, her title was meaningless.

She fixed her gaze on the fireworks illuminating the sky and whispered, "So many fireworks... they must have cost a fortune!"

Beatrice didn't understand her meaning.

Linda lowered her eyes and began dialing Secretary Esther's number.

Calling so late, disturbing someone's sleep, was never appreciated.

Secretary Esther, having worked with Shane for a considerable time, held a privileged position. Aware of Shane's indifference toward his wife, she answered Linda with a cold, almost aggressive tone.

"Mrs. Linda, you need to submit an application first and have Mr. Shane sign it before you can receive any funds."

"Just like the jewelry you wear; you need to register to use it."

"Mrs. Linda, do you understand what I'm saying?"

......

Linda hung up the phone.

Her head hung low. After a long pause, she looked at her reflection in the glass... then gently raised her hand.

On her slender ring finger sat her diamond wedding ring.

It was the only thing she possessed that didn't require Shane's approval or registration with his secretary... How pathetic was she, Mrs. Linda!

Linda blinked in a daze and whispered, "Help me find someone to sell the wedding ring!"

Beatrice stared, bewildered: "Linda, are you crazy?"

Linda said slowly turned around. In the empty hall, her footsteps echoed with loneliness... After a few steps, Linda stopped and said softly, but firmly, "Aunt Beatrice, I'm sober! I've never been so sober."

She wanted a divorce from Shane.

Three days later, Shane arrived back in Washington.

As dusk settled, his sleek, black SUV rolled into the villa's driveway, the engine sighing into silence.

The driver stepped out and opened Shane's door.

Shane emerged, shutting the door behind him. He forestalled the driver's attempt to retrieve the luggage. "I'll take care of it," he said with a dismissive air.

Stepping into the entrance hall, he was met by the family's maid. "The Adams family patriarch was in an accident a few days ago. Madam is quite upset. She's upstairs."

Shane was already aware of the events surrounding the Adams family.

A wave of weariness washing over him, he carried his luggage upstairs and pushed open the bedroom door. He found Linda seated before her vanity, meticulously arranging its contents.

Shane dropped his bag, loosened his tie, and sank onto the bed, observing his wife.

Since their marriage, Linda had filled her time with domestic tasks – cleaning, organizing, even baking. Shane often thought that if it weren't for her striking face and enviable figure, she'd be indistinguishable from the hired help.

Silence stretched between them.

Shane, still fatigued from his business trip, grew impatient with her silence. He walked into the dressing room, grabbed his bathrobe and stepped into the shower. During his shower, he assumed Linda would have calmed down and helped him unpack his luggage, and then continue to be a gentle wife.

He finished his shower and opened the bathroom door. When he walked out of the bathroom and found that his suitcase was still in place, he felt the need to talk to her.

Shane sat on the sofa and took a magazine to read at will.

He looked up and said, "How is your father doing? About what happened that night... I've already reprimanded Secretary Esther."

His tone was casual, lacking genuine concern.

Linda paused her task, lifting her gaze to meet his reflection in the mirror.

The Shane reflected back at her possessed sharp, handsome features and an air of innate privilege.

Even a simple bathrobe seemed to drape more elegantly on him than it would on others.

Linda stared at his reflection, her eyes aching, before finally speaking in a steady voice. "Shane, I want a divorce."

Shane was visibly taken aback.

He knew Linda was upset regarding the incident on that night. Later, he knew that after the accident in the Adams family, he also asked Secretary Esther to rush to the hospital at the first time, but Linda did not accept it.

This was the first time she had defied him. Previously, she had always been so docile.

Shane turned to the side and grabbed the cigarette box from the coffee table, shook out a cigarette from it and put it on his lips, and lowered his head to light it.

A stream of smoke slowly spit out.

He said softly, "You mentioned wanting to find work a few days ago. Why... are you talking about divorce now?"

"Is Mrs. Shane bored after all this time? Do you want to experience real life?"

"Linda, look around. How many people are out there, working overtime for peanuts and having to grin and bear it? You live in a 2,000-square-meter villa, enjoying the status of Mrs. Shane. What more could you possibly want?"

His tone was sharp and indifferent.

Linda finally reached her breaking point. Her lips trembling, she gave a hollow laugh. "Mrs. Shane? Is *this* what being Mrs. Shane is like?"

She stood abruptly and dragged Shane into the dressing room, throwing open the closet doors with a loud thud.

Linda was locked out, the keys and access belonging solely to Secretary Esther.

With a self-deprecating laugh, Linda gestured towards the cabinets: "What kind of wife needs to justify every piece of jewelry to her husband's secretary? What kind of wife has to fill out forms for every penny spent? What kind of wife can't even afford a taxi? Tell me, Shane, is *this* what being Mrs. Shane is all about?"

"Yes, my family is in decline, and you toss me 100,000 dollars a month."

"But every time I take that check, I feel like some kept woman, just a reward for services rendered!"

...

Shane cut her off, his voice sharp: "Is that really what you think?"

He grasped her chin gently, his grip firm: "A kept woman who doesn't even know how to please a man? Who can barely manage a kitten's whimper? You want a divorce?... What kind of existence do you imagine for yourself, without me?"

Linda, stung by his words and grip, raised a hand to push him away...

Instantly, Shane seized her hand, his gaze fixed and cold on her bare ring finger: "Where's your wedding ring?"

"I sold it!"

Linda's voice was laced with sorrow: "So, Shane, let's just get divorced!"

The declaration felt like a monumental effort. Shane was the man she had loved for six long years. If it hadn't been for witnessing the fireworks that fateful night, perhaps she would have remained trapped in this barren marriage indefinitely.

But she *had* seen them, and she refused to waste any more time.

Perhaps divorce would be more painful than her current situation. As Shane had pointed out, she'd be forced to beg for scraps. Still, she wouldn't regret it.

Releasing his hand, Linda began to pull a suitcase out.

She began to pack.

Shane's expression was thunderous. He watched her fragile back, stunned that Linda would display such unexpected defiance, demanding a divorce without hesitation.

A surge of inexplicable anger pulsed through him.

In one swift motion, he scooped Linda up and tossed her onto the bed a few steps away.

Shane's lean frame pinned her down.

His face was inches from hers, their eyes locked, the tips of their noses almost touching. His hot, potent breath swirled between them.

After what felt like an eternity, his lips moved close to her ear, his voice a dangerous whisper: "Is this all about Maria? Is that why you're acting up? Linda, why can't you be honest? Didn't you want this life as Mrs. Shane? Now... Don't you want it anymore?"

Linda trembled beneath him.

Even now, he still believed she was responsible for that night.

Maybe it was the physical nearness, or perhaps her vulnerable state. Whatever the reason, Shane was suddenly aroused. He stared at her intently, then cupped her chin and claimed her mouth with a kiss. His hand moved to unfasten the silk pajamas she wore.

Linda was breathtakingly beautiful, her skin flawless.

Shane should have stopped at the first touch. Now he found himself utterly unable to resist. He kissed her delicate neck, pinning her hands above her head, interlacing their fingers.

He was known for his intensity in bed, often overwhelming Linda, a testament to his forceful nature.

But now, on the verge of divorce, how could they even consider this?

"No, Shane... Please, no..."

Her voice was a trembling whisper, sounding especially vulnerable in the soft bed. Her dark hair framed her face against the pillows, a sight so alluring it stirred an almost violent possessiveness.

Shane pressed against her soft, red lips, his kiss forceful and intrusive, his words laced with vulgarity: "We're still legally married. Why not? You always say no at first, but when it really matters... huh?"

He needed to act now.

Linda's presence beneath him was undeniable – a softness, a warmth. Even without love, Shane couldn't deny the allure of her body. A possessive impulse rose within him.

Linda placed a hand on his shoulder, her breath catching slightly. "Shane," she said, her voice a touch unsteady, "I haven't taken my medication lately. There's a chance I could get pregnant."

Her words acted like a brake. Shane paused.

Desire battled with reason. He wanted her, yes, but not at the cost of losing control. Children weren't part of his current plan, not within the confines of his marriage with Linda.

After a prolonged silence, he delivered a cutting sneer. "It seems you've been giving this a great deal of thought these days."

Dismissing her resistance, Shane supported himself with one hand, reaching into the bedside table drawer with the other. He pulled out an unopened box, its packaging emblazoned with three simple English letters.

He was about to tear it open when his phone began to ring.

Ignoring the persistent ringing, Shane ripped open the small package with one hand and bent down to kiss Linda. She resisted, turning her head to break free... the incessant ringing of the mobile phone persisted.

Finally, exasperated, Shane answered the call.

It was his mother, Mrs. Deborah Harvey.

Her tone was cool, almost detached. "Shane, your grandmother isn't feeling well. Come home and see her. And bring *her* as well. Your grandmother has a craving for that lotus root powder cake she makes."

It was a veiled request, coated in concern for the elderly. Mrs. Deborah, never one for overt sentimentality, made her dislike clear.

Shane, his weight still partially on Linda, stared down at her, his dark eyes assessing. After a moment's consideration, he spoke into the phone. "I'll bring her by later."

Hanging up, he rose and began to dress. "Grandma's ill and wants to see you... If you're planning a scene, save it for later."

Linda remained on the bed, feeling depleted. Eventually, she too rose and dressed in silence.

As he fastened his trousers, Shane cast a glance at Linda's slender back and then at the unopened condom box on the bedside table. A slight tightening of his lips was the only outward sign of his thoughts as he left the room.

By the time Linda descended the stairs, Shane was already in the car, smoking.

Dusk had deepened, leaving only a faint twilight.

Linda was dressed in a white silk shirt and a floor-length black skirt of the same material, revealing only a sliver of a slender, pale calf.

She initially moved to get into the back, but Shane opened the passenger door. "Get in the front."

Linda obeyed, getting into the car without a word.

The black Bentley glided silently out of the villa gates. Shane gripped the steering wheel, his focus on the road, but his eyes flicked to Linda in the rearview mirror.

Three years of marriage, and Linda rarely rode in his car. Now, on the precipice of divorce, neither seemed inclined to speak.

The silence was heavy.

Half an hour later, the car pulled into a sprawling estate nestled in the hills. As the ornate wrought-iron gates swung open, the villa blazed with light, illuminating the grounds like daylight.

Shane switched off the engine and turned to Linda. "Grandma's frail, and she can't handle any drama. You know what to say."

Linda opened the car door and replied in a flat voice, "Don't worry."

Shane watched her back for a moment, then got out and quickly closed the distance, taking her hand. He felt her initial resistance, but he tightened his grip on her palm. "Remember what you agreed to."

Linda's fingers curled slightly, but she didn't pull away.

Mrs. Deborah was waiting in the grand hall. Seeing them enter hand-in-hand, she frowned imperceptibly before saying quietly, "Dr. Peter Williams just left. You can go and see her." She then turned her gaze towards Linda.

Linda greeted her mother-in-law. After a long pause, Mrs. Deborah responded curtly.

Normally, Linda would be hurt by the coldness, but now, preoccupied with her own situation with Shane, she felt detached... Shane's voice broke through her thoughts. "Let's go see Grandma."

Inside the bedroom, the elderly woman indeed seemed unwell, resting against the pillows. Seeing Shane and Linda enter, her aged eyes brightened immediately. "I've been waiting and waiting for my dear Linda."

Shane gently guided Linda forward.

He leaned in close to the old woman's ear and said, "I knew you weren't feeling well, so I didn't bring any outsiders."

The old woman smiled.

But she feigned deafness, cupping her ear and asking loudly, "What? Are you and Linda finally having children?... Shane, children are important! Don't worry about me being old, that can wait.

Knowing the old woman was being deliberately provocative, Shane shot Linda a hard look.

Linda didn't offer any affection during the visit.

After a brief chat with the old lady, she announced, "I'm going to make lotus root powder cakes."

The old lady smiled contentedly as Linda left.

Meanwhile, the old lady had spoken to Shane earlier, "Shane, what's with the special treatment for Maria? A few fireworks? Your wife will be jealous! And Linda, watch your husband! If you can't stand him, leave."

Shane brushed the comments about the fireworks aside without explaining. He suspected Secretary Esther had been behind that gesture!

Later, after a long conversation, Linda returned with the snack.

Shane observed her. Despite doing housework, Linda remained impeccably dressed, radiating an air of dignity and beauty – the perfect picture of a high-society wife.

He felt a momentary disconnect.

The old woman enjoyed the snack and cut to the chase, "Shane, you'll be 30 in two years. Others already have two children. When will you give me a great-grandchild?"

Linda remained silent.

Shane glanced at her, idly playing with a lotus root powder cake, and replied, "Linda is still young. Let her enjoy life a little longer!"

The old lady saw through their issues but didn't press the matter further.

They had dinner at the Harvey's house. By the time they left, it was late.

Shane fastened his seat belt and glanced at Linda. She stared out the window, her face barely visible.

In the dim light, her profile was soft and pale.

Shane looked at her for a while and then pressed the accelerator.

The black Bentley moved smoothly, the lights blurring past. He clearly wanted to talk, as he drove slowly.

About five minutes later, Shane spoke softly, "I'll arrange for your father to be admitted to the Hospital tomorrow, with the best team of specialists. And... if you need money, tell me."

His tone was gentle, almost a concession.

He didn't love Linda, and he was bothered by her calculated actions, but he wasn't ready to divorce... it would complicate his life and affect Shane's Group's stock value.

He figured he could get used to it!

Besides, her appearance and figure were top-notch. Sexually, at least, he found their relationship satisfying.

With that thought, as the traffic light turned green, Shane glanced at Linda.

Gripping the steering wheel, he continued, "Secretary Esther won't be coming to the house anymore. You can put away your jewelry. I'll explain it to her."

Linda listened quietly.

The air conditioning was high, and she crossed her arms to ward off the chill.

Married to Shane for three years, she knew his character well. His concessions were a form of granting a favor... and she should be grateful. But she wasn't.

He said a lot and conceded a few points, but he avoided mentioning Maria. Which meant if she accepted his arrangement, Maria would continue to be present in their lives...Nothing would really change.

Linda was tired and didn't want to remain trapped in a loveless marriage.

She refused softly, "No, my father's doctor is doing a good job."

Shane understood her meaning. She rejected his offer and insisted on divorce. He felt anger rise within him. "Linda, don't forget the prenuptial agreement. If you divorce, you won't get a dime."

"I know!" She replied quickly.

Shane lost his patience and said nothing further.

Twenty minutes later, as the car pulled into the villa they shared, he stopped the car and told the doorman, "Lock the gate and don't let a fly out."

The doorman looked suspicious, wanting to ask something,

But Shane had already driven off and parked in front of the villa.

The car stopped. Linda unfastened her seatbelt and started to get out. With a click, Shane locked the car.