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His Ex-Wife’s Secret Baby:The Billionaire Who Lied About Our Son
NovelShort
Hoàn thành
Molly Harding had just stepped out of her car at the jewelry auction in Harding Arts District when she spotted her husband at the entrance—with another woman on his arm.
Chương (10)
第1章
Molly Harding had just stepped out of her car at the jewelry auction in Harding Arts District when she spotted her husband at the entrance—with another woman on his arm.
Miles Vance stood there chatting with someone, his mistress pressed close to his side. She was beautiful, strikingly so, with a purity about her that seemed almost ethereal. Like moonlight given form.
Molly had always known her husband had exacting tastes. She just hadn't realized how well he could pick them.
She stared longer than she meant to, until her eyes began to sting.
Her friend squeezed her arm, voice soft with concern. "Don't go in. I'll bid for you."
Molly managed a thin smile. Catching your husband with his mistress wasn't exactly earth-shattering news.
Besides, Miles had already noticed her. His gaze swept over her with the same indifference he might show a stranger—no embarrassment, no discomfort, just a cold flicker of acknowledgment before he looked away.
He had never treated her like a wife. She was used to it by now.
Molly walked inside with her friend and found her seat. As luck would have it, Miles was directly in front of her, one row up. The woman leaned into his shoulder like she belonged there.
Molly forced herself to look past them. She was here for one thing only: a brooch she'd previewed twice already, hoping to win it for her mother.
It was a vintage piece—two feathers overlapping, one large and one small, crafted from gold, diamonds, and turquoise. Simple and elegant, yet utterly breathtaking.
The bidding climbed steadily. The wealthy socialites in attendance seemed to sense how much Molly wanted it. Out of respect for the young CEO of Breeze Fashion, they backed off one by one.
At six point two million dollars, the auctioneer raised his gavel—
And the woman draped over Miles lifted her paddle.
Molly's brow furrowed. Her friend, indignant on her behalf, immediately countered.
Back and forth they went, the price soaring to nine million.
Every time her friend bid, that woman followed.
Molly's expression darkened. She pulled out her phone and sent Miles a message: I want this brooch.
She watched him glance at his screen, then slip the phone back into his pocket without a word. He made no move to stop his mistress.
Molly inhaled slowly and typed again: This brooch means everything to me.
The message went through. Miles didn't look at his phone again.
Her hope crumbled with each passing second.
They had been married for three years. One week after signing the marriage certificate, he'd left for overseas. He came back a handful of times each year, and she was always the last to know.
Like today. If she hadn't stumbled upon him here, she would have assumed he was still abroad.
A husband who couldn't be bothered to acknowledge her existence—and she'd actually hoped he would help her?
She laughed bitterly at herself, then switched contacts and sent another message.
Moments later, Miles stood and stepped away to take a call. When he returned, his gaze cut toward her like a blade.
Molly ignored it. The brooch had belonged to her father. She'd had no choice but to call her mother-in-law and ask her to intervene—to pressure Miles into letting her have it.
But things didn't go as planned.
The moment Miles sat back down, his mistress called out a new bid: twenty million dollars.
Her friend fumed, ready to counter, but Molly stopped her, eyes rimmed with red.
In Harbor City, who could outspend the third son of the Vance family?
She had grown accustomed to his coldness, his neglect. But still—her heart felt like it was being torn apart.
After the auction ended, Molly found Miles.
She kept her voice low, her pride swallowed. "Can I have the brooch? I'll pay double what you bid."
Miles was tall, and he looked down at her with detached indifference.
Molly was beautiful—dark hair falling loose around her shoulders, skin pale as porcelain. The way she tilted her chin up, eyes bright with quiet desperation, could easily stir pity in anyone watching.
It was the same look she'd worn three years ago when she'd turned to his parents and said, "I want Miles Vance. Is that possible?"
The chill in his eyes deepened. "Once was enough."
The color drained from Molly's face. Once was enough...
Did he think today was the same as three years ago? That she was trying to steal something from this woman, just like she'd supposedly stolen him?
"That's not—"
Miles cut her off, uninterested in explanations. He accepted the jewelry case from the auction staff and turned to leave.
Molly panicked, grabbing his arm. "It belonged to my father—"
His gaze dropped to her fingers on his sleeve. The coldness there ran bone-deep, laced with undisguised contempt.
"Let go."
Molly remembered the day they'd signed their marriage certificate.
The moment she'd held that document in her hands, she'd wanted to spin in circles from sheer happiness. But he had looked at her with those same eyes and said, "Other than this piece of paper, you will get nothing from me."
Miles Vance was a man of his word.
Molly wanted to release him. But she had searched for this brooch for so long—just to give her mother something to hold onto.
She forced down the ache in her chest and pleaded, "Miles, I'm begging you..."
He shook her hand off. "Didn't I once beg you too, Ms. Harding?"
第2章
Miss Harding?
Three years of marriage, and he still refused to acknowledge her as his wife.
Seeing the disgust in Miles's eyes, Molly knew that no matter what she said or did, he would never give her the brooch.
Disappointment settled over her as she wondered how she could possibly get it back from him.
On the way home, her car stopped at an intersection. On the giant LED billboard across the street, news footage was playing: "Miles Vance wins Master Dylan Parker's Promise Brooch for $20 million—rumored proposal to girlfriend Sibyl Edwards."
Molly turned her head just in time to see a breathtakingly beautiful woman throwing her arms around Miles, beaming like a child on Christmas morning.
And her handsome husband was playing along perfectly—leaning down slightly, his palm resting on the woman's back, a gentle smile on his lips, his eyes soft with tenderness.
Miles Vance, who was always so cold he barely seemed human, could actually look at someone like that...
Molly stared blankly at the screen, at the impossibly handsome man she had given her heart to.
So that's what the brooch was for. A proposal.
The Promise Brooch her father had designed for her mother—and Miles had used it to propose to his mistress.
Oh, Molly. What a joke you are.
She blinked slowly, brushed the tears from the corner of her eye with her fingertips, and dialed Miles's number.
"What is it?"
His tone was exactly as she expected—impatient, cold.
"Miles, just give me the brooch, and we'll divorce."
He didn't say a word. The line went dead.
Molly didn't call back. He found her tiresome enough already.
...
The next day, Miles finally came home around noon.
The house where he and Molly had started their marriage had become well-ordered since she moved in—every plant and piece of furniture arranged with care. To him, though, it felt like a stranger's home.
He had barely stepped into the foyer when the housekeeper approached. "Sir, Mrs. Vance sat in the living room all night. She only went upstairs a short while ago."
Miles acknowledged her with a nod and had the driver leave his luggage in the living room before heading upstairs.
The guest bedroom door was open. Inside, everything was neat and organized. Molly was still wearing yesterday's clothes, carefully placing books from the shelf into a cardboard box.
She heard him and turned around.
When she saw him, there was none of the eager delight that used to light up her face.
They regarded each other in silence for a moment. When she didn't speak, Miles couldn't be bothered to say anything either. He loosened his tie and retreated to his own room.
Even after marriage, they were strangers under the same roof.
Molly smiled bitterly to herself.
His affair with Sibyl had made headlines everywhere—he'd thrown the Harding family's dignity to the ground—and he hadn't offered her a single word of explanation.
Because she didn't matter. Because she wasn't the wife he wanted.
The Harding family had done the Vances a great favor. When Molly said she wanted to marry Miles, the Vance family had separated him from the woman he loved.
Maybe this is karma, she thought. Punishment for destroying his chance at happiness.
Three years ago, Miles had come to her and said, "There's someone in my heart. Whatever debt my family owes yours—I can repay it another way."
If she could go back to that moment, she would have agreed. Instead, she had said, "Miles, I only want you."
...
Once Molly had finished packing, she instructed the servants to load her things into her car. That's when Miles finally came downstairs.
He walked past her and settled onto the living room sofa. "Where are you going?"
Molly glanced at him. Miles was undeniably handsome, with an air about him that was almost impossible to put into words.
But the scent of Sibyl's perfume clinging to him cleared her head instantly. "I'll have my lawyer draft the divorce agreement."
Miles was reaching for a cigarette. He paused, looking up at her. "Haven't you caused enough drama?"
Drama?
He thought she was being dramatic?
So even when she said "divorce," he hadn't believed her—thought she was just playing games?
Molly let out a soft laugh. "I finally understand how you felt back then. I'm truly sorry, Mr. Vance."
Miles's hand froze mid-motion as he was about to light the cigarette. He looked up at her. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears, and there was a fragility about her—something broken—that he had never seen before.
It caught him off guard.
But before he could dwell on it, she had already turned and walked away.
第3章
Molly had just gotten into the car when her mother-in-law called, asking her to come to the Old Estate.
She hung up and glanced outside. Miles had changed his clothes and was waiting by the entrance, clearly intending to go with her.
In front of his family, their marriage had always appeared to be one of "mutual respect."
This time, Molly didn't move. She'd made up her mind to divorce him, and she was done catering to Miles's feelings.
The tall man finished a cigarette before finally losing patience and rapping on her window.
"I'll drive myself," Molly said, her tone flat.
"My mother can't be upset." She had surgery coming up soon. If they arrived separately, she'd overthink things.
Molly didn't respond. Even if her mother-in-law got upset, that was his doing, not hers.
She raised the window, but Miles spoke suddenly. "The brooch—you don't want it anymore?"
Molly looked at him. One hand braced against the roof of the car, his posture deceptively relaxed, yet he had her completely cornered.
She pressed her lips together. In the end, she got out.
Sharing a car with Miles—this was the first time in three years of marriage.
Something she'd once longed for so desperately now brought her no joy at all.
The driver was steady. Molly sat pressed against the window, catching in her peripheral vision the crisp press of his trousers, not a single wrinkle.
Neither of them spoke.
Twenty minutes later, the car arrived at the Vance Old Estate.
Miles fastened his suit jacket, stepped out, and took her hand.
Molly's fingers trembled. Looking down at their interlaced hands, she felt worse than she had waiting up for him all night.
She was repulsed. She tried hard to shake him off, but couldn't.
Miles said nothing, his expression as emotionless as ever. He wasn't even gripping tightly, yet she couldn't break free.
Molly laughed in frustration. "Your parents are smart—they'll see right through us. Just give me the brooch, and I'll help you get through this with them."
Miles studied her, his gaze heavy. He didn't believe she'd actually go through with the divorce.
He stayed silent. Molly took that as agreement.
After all, he'd proposed to someone yesterday. How could he bear to keep his precious darling hidden away any longer?
Since she couldn't shake him off, she let him hold her hand.
When they entered the living room, Mrs. Vance looked pleased to see them hand in hand. Then something crossed her mind, and she shot her son a look, her tone sharp. "Get upstairs. Your father's waiting."
She immediately turned warm again, pulling Molly aside to talk.
"Molly, what happened online—he was completely out of line. I owe you an apology." Mrs. Vance spoke with genuine concern.
Everyone in the Vance family treated her well. Everyone except her husband.
"I know you've been wronged. Tell me what you want, and I'll make that bastard pay!"
Molly appreciated her mother-in-law taking her side, but the more she did, the more Miles resented her.
She was exhausted by this life. "Mom, I want to divorce him."
Mrs. Vance had expected Molly to be furious, but she never imagined it would come to divorce.
"Molly, he's not planning to go abroad again after this. I'll make him cut things off with that woman. Give it time—he'll come to love you. It would be such a waste to give up now." Mrs. Vance was desperate.
"There's no point dragging out something meaningless. Cutting losses early is the right thing to do. Even after we divorce, I'll still visit you."
Seeing that Molly had made up her mind, Mrs. Vance didn't know what else to say.
Molly hugged her gently. "You're the best mother-in-law in the world. Because of me, you and your son have grown distant. Let me go talk to Dad—don't be too hard on him."
Mrs. Vance went with her.
"You've been abroad for years, far from the Vances' core management. Taking over the company won't be easy. If word of a divorce gets out—even from a secret marriage—it would be extremely damaging." Noah Vance's voice was stern.
"If you agree to let me divorce Molly, I'll give up my share of everything in the Vance family."
第4章
They had just reached the study when they heard that.
Miles truly loved that woman. Years ago, the Vance family had forced him to choose between his position as heir and her. He'd chosen her without a moment's hesitation.
Three years had passed, and his resolve hadn't wavered. Amid her heartache, Molly felt an unexpected twinge of emotion.
Mrs. Vance's anger, barely contained, flared again. "Miles! If Molly's father hadn't saved your life back then, you wouldn't even be here. How can you say such things?"
"My survival had nothing to do with her father."
Mrs. Vance was so furious she started to cry, unable to fathom why her son refused to acknowledge this.
Molly didn't want him thinking she'd orchestrated this scene.
She gently embraced Mrs. Vance, murmuring something in her ear. The older woman's expression shifted, and she laughed.
Just like that, the tension dissolved.
Miles couldn't help glancing at Molly. She wore gray tailored trousers and a black knit sweater—minimalist and sharp. Paired with that striking, memorable face, the effect was dazzling.
Especially with that smile at the corner of her lips. Dazzling enough to be unforgettable.
His gaze darkened, and he looked away.
After they went downstairs, she said calmly that they shouldn't have married three years ago.
Miles studied her. Her tone was even, her eyes steady. She wasn't lying.
So she genuinely wanted a divorce?
Sensing his gaze, Molly met it without flinching—no longer blushing shyly as she once had.
Mrs. Vance clearly adored her, clasping her hands tightly. "After you divorce this foolish son of mine, just be my daughter instead. Your family's kindness—I haven't forgotten."
Mr. Vance agreed with the suggestion and asked what Molly wanted from the divorce settlement.
Molly hadn't expected things to go this way. Before she could find words for this awkward situation, her assistant called about an urgent matter at the company.
"Mom, Dad—there's an issue at the factory. I need to go handle it."
The factory?
"Isn't that out in the suburbs?" A two-hour drive, at least.
"Molly didn't bring her driver. You're her brother now—go with her." Mrs. Vance directed the last part at Miles.
He sat on the sofa, long legs stretched out in front of him. He didn't refuse, but everything about his posture radiated cold indifference—I'm not going.
They were getting divorced anyway. Molly didn't care about something this trivial.
"It's nothing major. I can handle it myself." She said goodbye to Mrs. Vance.
Mrs. Vance kicked her son's leg and leaned close to warn him: "Miles, keep pushing your luck and you can go live with that woman. Drop the Vance name entirely. Calling you her brother is already the biggest concession we're making."
Molly was putting on her coat in the foyer when Miles walked over, his jacket draped over his arm.
Once, this kind of compromise from him would have made her ecstatic.
Now, she just found it tiresome.
She didn't want his company, but she needed a driver. Without dwelling on it, she handed him the keys.
In the car, they didn't exchange a word—same as before.
Molly spent the entire two-hour drive on calls, dealing with work. She didn't stop once.
Miles glanced at her. A strand of hair had fallen against her cheek. From his angle, he could just make out the elegant slope of her nose, the vivid red of her lips.
When they arrived, Molly was about to get out when she remembered him. Covering the phone's mic, she said, "Thanks. And don't forget to get the brooch back—brother."
Miles's expression went cold. He let out a derisive scoff. She'd slipped into her role fast enough.
He stayed in the car, watching through the window as a crowd surrounded her.
He pulled out a cigarette, bent his head to light it, and sent Felix Henson his location—asking him to pick him up. He wasn't waiting for her.
Less than a minute later, Felix's voice call came through. "Bro, your wife becoming your sister—is that actually true?"
"Who told you?" Miles's voice was frigid.
"Your mom. She wants to throw Mol—I mean, your sister—a matchmaking party at the old estate this Saturday. Asked me to round up some decent-looking, reliable guys." A pause. "Bro, Molly's gorgeous. You two were never together together? Don't you think that's a waste?"
Miles ground his teeth. "And how would you know that?"
Felix didn't hold back. "Your mom again. She said, 'A wife that beautiful and he makes her his sister—is Miles an idiot?' The whole circle's talking. The going theory is you've got... performance issues."
Why else would a man keep a wife that stunning at arm's length?
Miles hung up and exhaled slowly.
Felix took two hours to arrive. Miles had planned to nap in the car, but the constant flow of vehicles through the industrial park grated on his nerves.
Felix took one look at Miles's sour mood and thought for a long moment. "Bro, this thing with Molly's company—it's blown up. Everyone's waiting to watch her fail. Are we really just... leaving?"
Miles leaned back in the passenger seat, eyelids lifting lazily. "You're suggesting I help her?"
"Professionally, this is a Vance factory. Personally, Molly's your wi—sister. Shouldn't we step in?"
第5章
Things on Molly's end had reached a boiling point.
She delegated tasks one by one, then touched base with the client. When she spotted Miles, she was caught off guard for a moment.
Miles was handsome—his dark suit tailored perfectly to his tall frame—but the hard lines of his face and the cold edge in his gaze when he looked at her killed any thought of admiring the view.
Felix jogged over, looking pleased with himself. "Molly, my brother's here to help you out."
Miles, helping her?
If he'd really wanted to help, he would've come in with her when she got out of the car. The fact that he'd waited this long meant his mother must have chewed him out again.
She had no use for his reluctant charity. "I can handle this myself."
Her refusal made Miles's brow furrow deeply.
"This is company business. You don't get to throw a tantrum."
A tantrum?
In his eyes, she was either scheming or throwing tantrums—just some conniving woman who couldn't separate work from personal feelings, right?
Molly didn't bother explaining. She turned to leave.
Miles grabbed her wrist, displeasure written all over his face. "What kind of attitude is that?"
His grip hurt. She tried to pull free, but he only tightened his hold, his gaze cutting into her like a blade.
She let out a dry laugh. "Attitude? This is exactly how you've treated me for three years. I do it once, and Mr. Vance can't take it?"
Miles went still for a moment.
Molly wrenched her wrist from his grasp and shook it out—a red ring already forming on her skin—before walking into the office.
Miles's expression turned dark. He'd never imagined the wife who always hovered around him would bite back so sharply.
It left a sour knot in his chest.
Felix was equally stunned, scratching the bridge of his nose. "Is that really Molly?"
Before, the moment she heard Miles was back in the country, Molly would cook his favorite dishes herself and wait for him to come home.
When he didn't show, she'd come looking for Felix. "Felix, could you take the food to him?"
There had been eagerness in her eyes—and hope that her husband might finally see her.
But now...
"What do we do now?" Felix asked.
"This is a Vance subsidiary. There's a billion-dollar export contract on the line."
Right. So they were helping whether she liked it or not.
To keep the two of them from fighting while still getting things done, Felix stepped in as mediator.
"Molly, this is the perfect chance to spend time with him—let him really get to know you."
Molly finished replying to a work message before answering. "Save that chance for someone else."
Felix's jaw dropped. He leaned closer, pushing harder. "Walking away now would be such a waste. You haven't even slept with him yet, and he's gorgeous."
Molly nodded. "Gorgeous." Her best friend had described Miles the same way. He really was a beautiful man.
"Felix, let me ask you something. If you saw a perfect apple covered in someone else's saliva, would you still take a bite?"
Felix fell silent.
So... she was calling his brother dirty.
Before he could say anything else, Molly's assistant pushed through the door. "Ms. Harding, we've borrowed everyone we could. They've already started working."
"Good. I'll go check on them." She headed for the door, but the assistant added, "Everyone's saying Sibyl Edwards is here."
Molly's steps faltered. She turned back to Felix with a smile. "As long as he stays, I'll definitely seize this 'perfect chance.'"
Felix was speechless.
Why was Sibyl showing up now to stir things up?
At the office building entrance, Molly ran into Miles, who was about to leave.
"Something important came up. I'll have Felix stay and help you."
Molly gave him a tight smile. "Sure."
Felix grabbed Miles before he could walk off, shooting him a meaningful look. "Didn't you just say this is a Vance subsidiary with a billion-dollar contract on the line? Nothing's more urgent or important than this right now, right?"
She didn't wait for Miles's answer. She walked away, because she already knew what it would be.
Anything involving Sibyl was always important.
She, Molly Harding, would never be important—and would never be chosen.
She was grateful she hadn't let Felix's talk of "the perfect chance" get her hopes up. Otherwise, how badly would her face be stinging right now?
第6章
Miles didn't get home until well past midnight.
In one corner of the living room, the suitcase he'd brought back yesterday sat untouched, exactly where he'd left it.
He thought of Molly.
For the past three years, he'd been living abroad. Every time he returned, she would greet him with that eager, ingratiating smile. His suitcase was heavy—heavy enough to make her slender frame tilt to one side—yet she'd still haul it upstairs, huffing with effort the whole way.
The way she used to look at him, all shy adoration. Nothing like this time.
He glanced at his phone. Multiple missed calls, most from Felix. None from her.
He called Felix back.
It took a while before the line connected. "Miles, I'm still working."
"Working with Molly?" Miles was skeptical. The factory situation was urgent, but hardly complicated.
"Yeah. Still at the Industrial Park."
Miles frowned. "It's taking this long to handle something that minor? What exactly is Molly doing over there?"
Felix felt a pang of indignation on Molly's behalf. "This wasn't what we thought—some simple mistake by the packaging supplier that could be fixed with a reprint or a new vendor. This was deliberate sabotage, designed to make sure the first shipment couldn't go out. If it weren't for Molly, we'd have been completely screwed."
Harbor City had a traditional preserved fruit specialty with a fixed annual export quota of two billion dollars to Japan and Korea. This year, one billion of that had been entrusted to a trading company under the Vances.
Today was supposed to be the first shipment. But the packaging materials for a hundred thousand units failed to meet standards. The designer had vanished. The manufacturer claimed ignorance. No other company had enough stock to replace or supplement on short notice.
When Miles arrived at the Industrial Park, Felix practically threw himself at him. "Miles, can you even imagine? Every single person in this entire complex has been working overtime, hand-labeling a hundred thousand packages. I've never suffered like this in my entire life!"
Miles pressed his lips into a thin line. He searched for a while before he finally spotted Molly near the entrance of the Sterile Workshop, peeling off her cleanroom suit.
Under the harsh fluorescent lights that made the space bright as noon, the glow fell across her face. Even from a distance, he could see her clearly.
Her bone structure was striking. Porcelain skin without a trace of makeup. The predawn chill cut deep, and she'd wrapped herself in a drab gray cashmere blanket, yet she still looked stunning—effortlessly, devastatingly beautiful.
Molly was finishing up a conversation with the current general manager. The man was in his forties, a full head taller than her, yet he listened to her with obvious deference.
"Miles, Molly didn't get where she is just because of your parents' help, you know?"
Felix was reminding him: when it came to Molly, Miles didn't just lack understanding—he was deeply prejudiced.
When Molly walked past Miles, she acted as though she hadn't seen him.
It wasn't deliberate coldness. She simply hadn't slept in over twenty-four hours, and by now, she was running on fumes.
"About today—I misjudged the situation. I'm sorry." His voice was quiet.
Molly hadn't expected an apology from Miles. She paused, tilting her head to look at him.
"Felix told me everything. If it weren't for you, the company would've been in serious trouble."
Printing the missing product labels, then applying them by hand—the solution was crude, but it was the only option available.
She had stayed calm under pressure, made quick decisions. She was sharp, capable, someone who solved problems.
For the first time, Molly saw something in his eyes that looked like genuine appreciation. Not that familiar icy disdain.
Her nose stung.
Three years. This was the first time he'd ever looked at her without hostility—and it had to be now, when she'd already decided on divorce.
She dropped her gaze. "Just doing my job. Can't exactly collect a paycheck for nothing."
After that, neither of them spoke.
Miles watched the night wind lift strands of her hair. She tucked her pale, slender neck deeper into the blanket for warmth. "I don't know you well," he said, "but my parents genuinely care about you. That says a lot about who you are. But there's someone else in my heart. I made her a promise—that I'd marry her—and I won't go back on my word. From now on, if you ever run into trouble, I'll have your back. As your brother."
He stood in the path of the wind. Carried on the cold night air was the faint trace of that woman's perfume.
A fine, piercing ache spread through Molly's chest. Tears welled in her eyes.
"I hope you two are happy together," she managed, her voice catching.
第7章
In the end, Molly couldn't bring herself to call him "brother."
Because she really did love him.
Loved him so much that when he looked at her with indifference, she pretended not to notice. As long as she could be near him, she was happy.
But he simply didn't love her back.
The woman in his heart meant too much to him. He wouldn't even give Molly a chance—wouldn't try to get to know her.
Still, she had to admire him. In this fast-paced world, staying devoted to one person was rare.
Well, at least I have good taste in men!
So she was willing to step aside and let him have his happiness.
Miles said she could come get the brooch whenever she wanted, or he'd have it delivered.
The moment Molly agreed, she felt lighter than she had in years.
I'm a good person, she told herself. Someday, someone will treasure me too.
When Mrs. Vance heard that Sibyl had once again pulled her son away at a critical moment, she slammed her hand on the table.
"That woman isn't worth half of what Molly is! What's gotten into Miles? I need to find a way to get those two together properly. A beauty like Molly, with that sweet temperament—she's exactly his type!"
"Mom, save your energy. I already talked to Molly." Miles walked in, half-dragging an exhausted Felix behind him. He raised an eyebrow at his parents, still awake at three in the morning.
"Talked about what?"
"Once I've recovered from the jet lag, we're getting divorced." He loosened his collar and sank onto the sofa.
"Molly agreed to this?" Mrs. Vance sounded skeptical.
"She did. I just dropped her off at home. She even wished me well." He paused. "Just as you wanted—from now on, we're siblings."
Mrs. Vance hadn't expected them to have already settled it between themselves.
"That girl was in the bloom of her youth when she married into this family. You treated her like a decoration for three years, and now you're just... done? Miles, are you sure you won't regret this?"
"I won't."
Mrs. Vance was too choked up to argue further. She grabbed her husband's arm and pulled him toward the stairs, muttering as she went: "He doesn't want someone as wonderful as Molly, but he's obsessed with that woman. His eyes might be fixed, but there's clearly something wrong with his head. Absolutely hopeless."
Molly had pulled two all-nighters in a row. When she finally woke, it was already afternoon.
The smell of cooking drifted into her room. She wandered out of the bedroom and found her best friend Kirsten in the kitchen, stirring a pot of congee.
Molly leaned against the doorframe, smiling. "Well, hello there, little fairy godmother."
"Your Highness." Kirsten curtsied dramatically. "Ready to wash up and eat?"
Molly was starving. She freshened up quickly and sat down at the table, eating while she talked. "Weren't you supposed to be in South District for that shoot?"
"Your mother-in-law was worried about you. Asked me to come keep an eye on you." Kirsten set a bowl of congee in front of her. "So... you and Miles. It's really happening?"
"Yeah."
"Six years of waiting, and this is how it ends?" Kirsten's voice rose with indignation. "If it weren't for you back then, Miles would be dead."
Molly watched her friend work herself up again. "I'm tired. Honestly, seeing how committed he is to Sibyl... I found it kind of moving."
"Moving? What about you? You were so young when you—can you really just walk away?"
Molly's lashes trembled. "The only one I can't walk away from is his mother."
That made Kirsten laugh despite herself. "Maybe the divorce is for the best. Harbor City's full of men better than Miles. Come out with me tonight—I'll find you a few."
"Deal." Molly didn't hesitate. "But they have to be good-looking."
She'd barely finished speaking when her phone rang. Mrs. Vance, asking her to come to the old estate for dinner and discuss how to divide the assets.
Molly picked up some pastries Mrs. Vance liked on the way over.
In the living room, both of Miles's parents were waiting, along with a lawyer.
"Molly dear, go drag that idiot son of mine down here," Mrs. Vance said.
Molly climbed the stairs and knocked on Miles's door. She waited. No answer.
She stepped inside. The room was empty. She was heading toward the study when a sound behind her made her turn.
Miles had just walked out of the bathroom—
Water still dripping from his body, his usually immaculate hair falling damp across his forehead. Droplets traced a path down from his hairline, sliding over his shoulders, trailing along the defined lines of his chest and abdomen before disappearing beneath the towel wrapped low around his hips...
第8章
Molly had always known he had a good body—the kind that looked lean in clothes but revealed solid muscle underneath.
Especially that waist. So narrow.
When her eyes met Miles's, his brows and lashes still damp with steam, her heart began to pound involuntarily.
That face, that body... never having slept with him really was a waste.
Molly averted her gaze, embarrassed, not wanting to come across like some kind of pervert.
"Your mom's calling for you."
She turned to leave, but a cool, low voice came from behind her. "Wait."
Footsteps drew closer. Remembering he wasn't wearing anything, her back went rigid.
Miles walked up behind her. He noticed her ears gradually flushing red, the color spreading down to her nape. Her skin, smooth as jade, was tinged with a faint blush—quite enticing.
"Never seen a man without clothes before?" Miles said, circling around to face her.
Molly's face was burning now. She glared at him, her eyes full of wariness. "What are you... trying to do?"
Miles said nothing, just stood there watching her with lowered lids.
Molly was confused. She touched her face—nothing stuck to it, right?
"Never mind. I'll head down."
Molly: "..."
She couldn't understand what that had been about. Was he showing off his physique?
Still, she noticed that ever since they'd decided to act as siblings, the atmosphere between them had become much more relaxed.
Downstairs, Mrs. Vance took her hand. "Molly, our mother-daughter-in-law bond really was too brief. But don't worry—I won't let you leave empty-handed. Half of everything under Miles's name—the properties, investments, shares—it's yours."
Molly was stunned. "Mom, no, I couldn't—"
Seeing her refuse, Mrs. Vance began persuading her. "When a woman asks for nothing in a divorce, the man won't be grateful. He'll just think you're stupid. Don't be one of those lovesick fools!"
Miles, coming down the stairs: "..."
"Besides... all that money still couldn't repay what your family did for us," Mrs. Vance added.
Years ago, Mr. Vance and Miles had been in an accident. Molly's father happened upon them and saved both their lives.
That act of heroism brought disaster upon him. He died in a fire.
It was clearly her father who had saved them, yet her foolish son insisted his rescuer had been a woman.
The thought made Mrs. Vance angry all over again. "Miles cheated during the marriage. He should leave with nothing."
"Miles is your son," Molly reminded her quietly.
"If I'd known he'd turn out this stupid, I'd rather have given birth to a roast pork bun!"
Molly's fingers brushed her nose as she stole a glance at Miles.
His cold gaze was locked on her, a half-smile playing on his lips—dangerous and unsettling.
She hadn't asked for his money. His mother was the one insisting!
"My father saved those people because he wanted to. If it had been anyone else in danger, he would have done the same. As for the debt—I think it's already been repaid."
Her father had been a talented jewelry designer who ran a successful fashion company.
After his death, the company fell into chaos and was gradually carved up by others.
It was Mr. Vance who bought the worthless shell and folded it into the Vance Group, holding it in trust until she was old enough to take over.
Two months ago, the company had been placed in her hands.
Mrs. Vance wouldn't accept that as her only settlement. She also gave Molly the trading company at The Industrial Park, plus an entire block of storefronts in Harbor City's prime district. Mr. Vance hadn't been stingy either—he'd given her three percent of the Vance Group shares.
In short, this one divorce had made her a very wealthy woman.
Mrs. Vance told the lawyer to handle everything immediately. Then she turned and saw her son still staring at Molly. She kicked him. "Do you agree or not?"
Miles lounged with his arms draped casually over the sofa, looking effortlessly relaxed. "It's your money. Not my business."
Satisfied with his attitude, Mrs. Vance sent Molly upstairs to fetch a jewelry box from her room.
Once she was gone, Mrs. Vance turned to her son. "Beautiful, isn't she? Absolutely gorgeous. It's not too late to regret this, you know."
"What would I regret? I just noticed she has a mole on the tip of her nose."
"Oh? One little mole and you can't look away?" She snorted. "Keep pretending. You think I don't know you? I pushed you out of my own body."
第9章
Molly was undeniably beautiful. Her hair, which had been pinned up earlier, now cascaded over her shoulders like dark seaweed.
Her skin was porcelain-pale, her features exquisitely delicate. Sitting in the passenger seat, she dabbed concealer over the tiny mole on the tip of her nose, then applied a bold red lipstick. The effect was striking—elegant yet commanding.
Miles glanced over. "Why cover it up?"
It took Molly a moment to realize he meant the mole.
"It's too cutesy."
Miles understood. A twenty-six-year-old female executive couldn't afford to look endearing. That little mole on her nose gave her an innocent, almost provocative charm—not exactly the image that commanded respect in a boardroom.
He said nothing more, focusing on the road.
Molly didn't attempt small talk either, her gaze drifting to the window. The silence between them felt natural enough.
Still, knowing Miles was driving her to a matchmaking session left a bitter taste she couldn't quite name.
The whole thing had started before dinner. She'd been in the Vance family kitchen preparing a dish when Kirsten called. Her mother-in-law had answered on speakerphone.
"Princess, I've lined up a batch of young studs at July Club for you—tall, gorgeous, perfect for a young heiress like yourself to take her pick..."
Molly had frozen.
The kitchen staff stared at her, horrified disbelief written across their faces.
It was her mother-in-law who spoke first. "Wonderful, Kirsten. After dinner, we'll have Miles drive Molly over."
Her car was still parked at the Industrial Park. At the dinner table, Mrs. Vance had asked Miles to take her to the matchmaking event, and he'd agreed without hesitation.
Even though she'd already decided on divorce, uprooting someone who'd taken residence in your heart still took time.
Miles's complete indifference sent an involuntary pang through her chest.
When they arrived at July Club, Molly thanked him politely.
He gave a brief nod, then drove off.
Miles was satisfied with how they'd handled things. Molly's lack of clinginess had even earned her a few points in his estimation.
Fifteen minutes later, stopped at a red light, he opened a photo Felix had sent him.
Molly stood in the corridor outside a private room, phone pressed to her ear, wearing a backless sweater.
From the front, the dark gray knit looked unremarkable—a basic cut. But the back was open from the shoulder blades down, the fabric only resuming where a large bow cinched at her waist. Her black hair spilled over her jade-pale skin, the stark contrast neither jarring nor obvious, but creating something subtly sensual—an atmosphere of intimate allure.
No wonder she'd kept her jacket on throughout dinner, never once complaining about the heat.
She'd been afraid that taking it off would shatter her good-daughter-in-law image in front of his mother.
...
Molly sat on the private room's sofa, surveying the row of handsome men standing before her. She frowned slightly.
"Not a single one?" Kirsten asked.
"They're all pretty enough, but 'pretty' isn't really a compliment for a man."
Kirsten flopped sideways on the sofa, shooting her a look. "Compared to that devastatingly handsome face of his, these guys do fall short."
Miles's appeal came from the inside out—that presence, that bearing. His looks were almost secondary.
Molly had sharp taste. Having snagged someone like Miles, of course everyone else seemed bland by comparison.
Molly flipped through the stack of résumés, pulled out four, and handed them over. "Your studio's talent auditions have turned into some kind of imperial consort selection."
"This selection is just for you. He never satisfied you anyway—let these four make up for your three wasted years."
Felix had been standing at the door for a while. Only after Miles stalked off with a thunderous expression did he push it open. "Molly, my brother wants to see you about something."
Molly blinked, confused. "Didn't he go home?"
第10章
The largest VIP room at the July Club was dimly lit, shadows mingling with silhouettes. Yet Molly spotted Miles immediately, seated in the center.
It wasn't his striking looks that drew her eye. In this den of indulgence, every man had a woman draped over his arm—except Miles. He sat alone, a cigarette between his fingers, watching the room through a veil of smoke with detached indifference.
As a wife, she supposed she should feel some satisfaction that her husband kept himself so... pristine.
But when that same husband wouldn't lay a finger on his own wife? That was infuriating.
In this moment, Molly truly envied Sibyl.
Miles had noticed her the instant she walked in—specifically, her waist. A gray blouse tucked into high-waisted black trousers, the cut accentuating how slender she was, how easily his hands could span her.
"Ms. Harding, I could wrap one hand around that waist and lift you right up," someone called out, punctuating the comment with a whistle.
Molly glanced at him. "Why don't you try later? Let's see if you actually can."
As she spoke, Miles rose from the sofa.
When he reached her side, she caught his scent—sandalwood and tobacco, faint but unmistakable. She followed him out.
He stood close, his shadow falling over her. Molly instinctively stepped back, but before she could, he spoke: "We're still married. Watch yourself."
She studied his cold expression and realized he'd misread what happened inside.
She considered explaining, but the divorce settlement was already finalized. What was the point?
Besides, the hypocrisy was rich. He and Sibyl hadn't exactly been discreet.
She kept that thought to herself. The brooch was still in his possession. He'd promised to return it, but if she annoyed him, he could drag his feet for days, and she'd have no choice but to wait.
"Fine. I won't cause you any trouble," she said, her tone perfectly agreeable.
Miles looked down at her—the subtle makeup, the understated elegance, beauty without ostentation.
She'd been shy and eager to please before. Yesterday, sharp-tongued. Now, excessively compliant.
He couldn't tell which version was real.
"Are you leaving?" Molly asked. "I'll stay half an hour, then go."
She was being more than reasonable. They were getting divorced, yet here she was, maintaining appearances.
Miles swept her with a cool glance and returned to the room without a word. Clearly not pleased.
Molly thought he was impossible. She was doing him a favor, and he couldn't even manage a civil expression.
Back inside, she found Kirsten in the most secluded corner, and they talked quietly.
Kirsten seemed distracted. Molly followed her gaze.
Miles was smoking, the ember flickering at his fingertips. From this angle, his profile was arresting—the clean line of his jaw, the sharp planes of his face. The phrase raw magnetism came to mind.
"God, he's..." Kirsten breathed. "You should sleep with him. Otherwise it's just a waste."
Someone killed the music right at that moment.
The words hung in the sudden silence. Every pair of eyes in the room turned toward them, laden with speculation.
Awkward didn't begin to cover it.
Aside from Felix and a few others, no one here knew about her connection to Miles.
The guy who'd offered to lift her—Douglas James, she remembered—leaned forward with a smirk. "So, Ms. Harding, who exactly are you looking to sleep with?"
"Douglas, back off. None of your business," Felix cut in.
Douglas scoffed. "What's your problem? A woman this beautiful—can't a man express some admiration?" He winked at Molly. "I'm very well-behaved, you know."
The sleazy grin was almost too much to look at.
"Doug, why don't you take a guess," Felix said, an edge of amusement in his voice. "Who do you think Ms. Harding has her eye on?"
Molly was well-known in Harbor City's circles—beautiful, sharp, and a force in business. She'd crossed paths with nearly everyone in this room. The only exception was the man who'd just returned from abroad, untouchable and aloof: Miles Vance.
All eyes shifted to him. Molly opened her mouth to explain, but Felix shoved her toward Miles before she could get a word out.
The room erupted in catcalls and whistles.
Then a voice cut through—low, cold, final.
"Enough. She's my sister."