Chapter 2
Suddenly, Claire's voice came from outside the door. "Olivia, I'm not responsible for paying for the damages from Eddie's accident, am I?"
Claire came back, tears still clinging to her lashes.
As soon as she walked in, she started whining, sounding super wronged.
"Olivia, I was just a passenger. Eddie was the one driving. People online are already blaming me. Can you put out a statement saying this has nothing to do with me?"
Edward immediately turned to me. "Olivia, make a statement."
I pulled up the traffic cop's report and shoved it in his face.
"The dashcam shows that right before the crash, you took one hand off the wheel to help Claire grab her earring from the footwell, and you were going over the speed limit," I said.
His expression shifted.
Claire's sobs cut off.
I went on, "One of you was messing around at the wheel, and the other thought it was smart to dig for jewelry on a dangerous mountain road. The cops will figure out who's to blame."
Claire went white as a sheet.
"Olivia, how can you say that about me? Eddie gave me those earrings. I couldn't bear to lose them," she said.
"If you can't part with them, then you can pay for them together," I replied coolly.
I opened my bag and placed a stack of documents on the bedside table.
"Ms. Bennett, over the past two years, Eddie's given you a house, a car, luxury bags, jewelry, and everything you charged to his secondary card. The total comes to 4,500,000 dollars," I said.
She snapped her head up in shock.
Edward's expression changed, panic flickering in his eyes. "Olivia, you've been checking up on her?"
"I'm looking into our shared assets." I looked him straight in the eye, making sure every word landed. "Any large gifts you gave to a third party during our marriage. I have the right to reclaim them."
Claire's lips quivered. "There's nothing going on between Eddie and me! Don't insult me by calling me the other woman!"
I thrust the hotel reservation right at her.
"Ocean-view suite, round bed, check-in at 8 PM. You booked it, he paid. Can you really call yourself innocent without choking on the words?" I shot back.
She couldn't hold back her tears anymore; they finally broke free.
Edward tried to haul himself up with his arms, but his legs were dead weight; nothing happened.
He kept at it a few times, but his face turned gray with frustration.
I thoughtfully pressed the call button for him.
The nurse came in and helped him get comfortable in bed.
He lost all dignity in front of everyone, his eyes burning with humiliation.
"Olivia, do you really have to make me look bad right now?" he snapped.
I smiled. "Did you ever care about my feelings when you took her to that hotel?"
The nurse kept her head down, trying to hide her amusement.
Claire, seeing things weren't going her way, suddenly latched onto my sleeve.
"Olivia, I swear I never wanted to ruin your marriage. Eddie and I grew up together. He said you were too overbearing, that your home felt cold I just felt sorry for him," she whined.
Yeah, I'd heard that sob story before.
Every fake innocent girl loved to disguise cheating as some kind of salvation.
I lowered my head and slowly peeled her fingers off my sleeve.
"If you pity him so much, why don't you stay and look after him yourself?" I said.
She went stiff.
But Edward's eyes suddenly lit up.
"Claire, would you stay?" he asked.
Claire looked at him, her delicate little act about to shatter.
She hesitated for three seconds, then suddenly clutched her forehead.
"I'm feeling so dizzy Maybe my concussion isn't better yet," she mumbled.
But her legs were already edging her closer to the door.
In the end, Claire still walked out.
Before leaving, she bought Eddie a bouquet for 99 dollars, with a card that said, "Hope you get better soon. I'll always be cheering for you."
Of course, she used Eddie's secondary card to pay for it.
Eddie stared at the card for ages.
I sat next to him, lazily peeling an apple.
After the peel broke three times, I just gave up and set the knife aside.
He suddenly spoke in a low voice, "Claire's just scared. She's always been sheltered by her family. She can't deal with stuff like this."
"Yeah," I replied.
"Don't go after her."
"Yeah."
"When I get better, I'll make it up to you."
I looked up. "How exactly are you planning to get better?"
His lips pressed into a thin line.
I reminded him softly, "The doctor said your nerve damage is so bad, even basic self-care will be tough for you."
Edward closed his eyes, his chest rising and falling sharply.
He always cared about looking good.
Back then, he wouldn't leave the house unless his cufflinks matched his tie clip.
Now, he couldn't even turn over in bed without someone helping him. For him, that was worse than death.
But I didn't feel sorry for him.
All I could think about was that rainy night three months ago.
It was my birthday.
I made a whole dinner and waited for him from 7 PM all the way to midnight.
When Edward finally came home, there was a strange perfume clinging to his shirt collar.
He dropped a gift box on the table, his tone completely indifferent. "Something came up at work."
I opened the box; it was a silk scarf.
Same style, same color. Claire had posted it on her feed two hours earlier.
Her caption read, "Someone remembered my favorite misty blue."
I handed him my phone.
He glanced at it, not a hint of guilt on his face.
"Olivia, don't always think the worst of people," he said.
I asked, "Then what about this scarf?"
He frowned. "My assistant bought it."
Later, I found out his assistant was off that day.
Turned out that Edward had personally taken Claire shopping for three hours.
He bought her a scarf, then brought me the exact same one, as if tossing me the leftovers would be enough to shut me up.
He probably forgot.
I was the one who set up the Grant Group's first financial system.
Every shady expense, if I wanted to check, he'd never get it past me.
That afternoon, my lawyer came to the hospital.
When Edward saw the divorce papers, he froze.
"Olivia, you're divorcing me?" he blurted out.
I handed him the pen.
"Sign it," I said.
He stared at the terms, his voice shooting up.
"You expect me to leave with nothing? Are you out of your mind?" he shouted.
I looked at him and said softly, "I gave you a chance to keep your dignity."
He was about to say something when the door to the hospital room swung open.
Owen Bennett, the Grant Group's CFO, stood there, sweating bullets.
"Mr. Grant, Ms. Bennett maxed out the secondary card," he blurted out.