MoboNovels
Chapter 1 - The Last Straw
“Hello, the number you have dialed is currently unavailable. Please try again later.”
In the quiet emergency room, the automated female voice echoing from the receiver felt especially cold.
“Still no answer?” The nurse was clearly losing patience.
Eleanor lowered her phone, offering a strained, apologetic smile. “Can I just sign for myself?”
The nurse muttered about time-wasting, then handed over the anesthesia consent form.
Seven calls and Alex still hadn’t picked up. It really was a waste of time. If she’d needed a life-saving procedure instead of just a palm wound cleaning, she’d be long gone waiting for family to sign.
After the local anesthetic, the doctor meticulously picked out tiny, sharp glass shards from her palm with tweezers, curious about how she’d gotten injured.
“No special reason, really. Just couldn’t sleep, so I thought I’d do some chores to pass the time. Who knew I’d be so unlucky? Wiping a window and the glass just shattered.”
The doctor, out of professional habit, asked if she suffered from chronic insomnia.
Eleanor shook her head. She usually slept like a baby. Tonight’s insomnia, though, had a very specific reason.
And that reason…
Ding-dong.
A text notification interrupted their conversation. She picked up her phone, opened it, and saw a video from an unknown number.
The video was shot in dim light, so it was hard to make out much, but Eleanor recognized Alex instantly.
The man was still wearing the suit she’d picked out for him that morning. His long, straight legs were propped lazily on a table. His tall, athletic frame was sprawled back on a sofa, and his perfectly sculpted features (the kind God himself must have carved) were flawless – the type of face that could make women scream anywhere. But his eyes were too sharp, too cold. Even when he smiled, there was an ‘approach with caution’ sign plastered all over him. Except for the woman beside him.
After three years apart, she recognized the other woman immediately: Olivia Rockefeller, her husband’s beloved.
Olivia was pressed close to Alex, wearing a vintage silk gown that made her skin look like flawless porcelain. Three years studying abroad had only added to her artistic, almost ethereal aura. Her delicate eyes gazed at Alex with such deep affection, undeniably captivating.
People nearby were egging them on to drink a ’toast of intertwined arms.’ Olivia’s face flushed with shyness, but her eyes were brimming with expectation.
Alex kept his lips curved in a casual smile, a hint of nonchalant charm in his eyes. He raised the glass in front of him.
The video cut off there. Eleanor clutched her phone, offering a bitter laugh.
No wonder he didn’t pick up any of her seven calls. She should have known he’d be with Olivia today, considering she just got back to the city.
If she hadn’t suspected it, why else would she be completely sleepless tonight? But thinking it is one thing; seeing it with her own eyes is another entirely. She couldn’t just ignore it.
Eleanor typed with her freshly cleaned right hand, her fingertips trembling. “Tomorrow morning at 10 AM, meet me at the courthouse.”
In their three years of marriage, Alex had never looked at her with such tenderness. In his eyes, she’d only ever seen disgust.
Yes, he loathed her. Because the person who made him marry her was someone he despised, and because marrying her forcibly separated him from his darling for three years.
But back then, she had no choice. Her grandfather had cancer and an unfulfilled last wish. The anti-cancer medication cost a million a shot. She had no option but to agree to marry Alex, as his aunt Vivian had demanded.
Her original intentions hadn’t been pure, and she felt guilty towards Alex. For three years, she’d diligently looked after his every need, and no matter how cruelly he spoke to her, she remained steadfast.
Three years – even if you raised a dog, you’d worry about it when it got sick. But Alex? When she needed his signature for surgery, he was out clinking glasses with his precious darling.
A sharp, painful ache spread through her chest. Eleanor raised a hand to cover her eyes, tears slipping through her fingers.
It was late when she left the hospital, her IV drip complete. Just as she started her car, her phone rang. The custom ringtone told her it was Alex.
Her mind screamed at her to hang up, but her fingers, out of habit, answered before she could stop them.
Eleanor inwardly cursed herself for being so weak, offering a flat, “Hello?”
“Eleanor, Alex is drunk at the Midnight Lounge. Come pick him up, quickly.”
Before she could even open her mouth, the line went dead.
Eleanor didn’t want to go, but then a thought struck her: what if Alex ended up spending the night with Olivia Rockefeller and it messed up their divorce plans tomorrow?
She couldn’t not go.
Midnight Lounge.
After parking, Eleanor glanced at the gauze wrapped around her right hand. Then, thinking of Olivia Rockefeller’s elegant beauty tonight, she decisively ripped off the unsightly bandage. She wouldn’t lose face, no matter what. Eleanor couldn’t appear disheveled.
Walking into the private room, she saw a bunch of people slumped over, clearly wasted. Only Alex still held the same seated posture from the video, seemingly asleep, his usual sharp edge softened by unconsciousness.
But Eleanor’s first glance wasn’t for him. It was for Olivia Rockefeller, who was leaning softly against him, clearly emboldened by the alcohol. Her cheeks were flushed, giving her a distinct, alluring beauty.
Eleanor, having left in a hurry, had simply thrown a cardigan over her loungewear, her face bare—the quintessential image of a housewife. The contrast with Olivia Rockefeller at that moment was stark, like night and day.
Catching sight of her, Olivia Rockefeller shot upright like a startled bird, nervously explaining, “Mrs. Sinclair, please don’t misunderstand! I just had a couple too many drinks and felt a little weak, so I leaned on Alex’s shoulder.”
And of course, someone piped up, backing her play: “Sis, don’t push Alex’s buttons just because he likes you. Everyone knows how much he despises her! He hates it when anyone calls her Mrs. Sinclair!”
As Olivia Rockefeller’s sister, Mia Rockefeller, blurted this out, the private room instantly erupted in jeers. Everyone’s gaze at Eleanor was as contemptuous as ever.
“Mia, don’t say that. Whether Alex likes her or not, she’s still Alex’s wife.” Olivia Rockefeller jumped in again, playing the good cop, giving her sister a half-hearted lecture before flashing Eleanor an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, my parents spoiled her rotten.”
Eleanor wasn’t angry. “It’s fine. She’s not wrong. Alex does hate me.”
“At least you know your place,” Mia scoffed.
Eleanor smiled at her. “But what can I do? As much as he hates me, I’m still Mrs. Sinclair. And as much as he likes someone else, they have no title.”
That was practically pointing a finger at Olivia Rockefeller and calling her a homewrecker.
Olivia Rockefeller’s flushed cheeks paled slightly.
“Eleanor, who are you calling a homewrecker?! You were the one who crashed my sister and Alex’s relationship! If it weren’t for you, they’d have kids by now!” Mia furiously accused.
Kids? Yeah, right. A fat chance of that. Why don’t you ask Alex if he could even get it up for your sister? If I hadn’t been diligently detoxing him for three years, Alex would have been useless in bed his entire life, all show and no go. Now that he’s cured, and I haven’t even gotten to enjoy it yet, Olivia Rockefeller gets to reap the benefits?
The thought stuck in Eleanor’s throat, a bitter pill.
Chapter 2 - Eleanor’s Checkmate
Eleanor didn’t have the energy to engage with the sisters any further. She walked over to Alex Sinclair, bent down, and called his name, “Alex.”
Alex was sound asleep, completely unresponsive.
Mia Rockefeller immediately jumped in to mock her: “Hey, Alex, wake up! Your little live-in nanny is here.”
The phrase “little live-in nanny” made the others laugh.
“I’d love to ask Alex where he found this nanny. I heard she’s been faithfully delivering soup to him for three years, rain or shine.”
“She’s basically paying him to be with him. If you looked like Alex, women would be lining up to pay you.”
“Hahaha.”
The way the group was staring at Eleanor made her feel like a clown.
“Miss Rockefeller, how much does one of your paintings sell for these days? A hundred grand?” Eleanor asked Olivia, ignoring the taunts.
“Why do you ask?” Mia shielded Olivia, acting like even talking to Eleanor would somehow diminish her sister’s status.
Eleanor turned the question to her: “What about you, Miss Maya? How much spending money do you get each month? A hundred grand, two hundred grand, or maybe half a million?”
Mia refused to answer. “What’s it to you?”
Eleanor shrugged. “Nothing really, just curious to know if you well-off socialites make more in a month than I do as a nanny. I make a million a month, after all. Plus, I can swipe Alex Sinclair’s black card whenever I want.”
The room fell silent.
The bit about swiping Alex Sinclair’s black card ignited a spark of jealousy in Olivia’s eyes.
Eleanor, single kill. She knew perfectly well that these girls’ allowance maxed out at a few hundred thousand, and their credit cards definitely didn’t have unlimited spending.
Eleanor smirked at them, then helped Alex up and started guiding him out.
The waiter at the door rushed to help.
Something else occurred to Eleanor, and she turned back to the group. “Tonight’s on me, everyone. Drink whatever you want. If you don’t rack up a million-dollar bar tab, you’re disrespecting Alex Sinclair.”
The room fell silent once more.
Eleanor, double kill. The waiter helped steer Alex into the car, and Eleanor drove off after thanking him.
Back at The Penthouse, Eleanor had barely managed to heave Alex onto the sofa when his eyes snapped open. The usually flirtatious look from his eyes was replaced by an icy stare filled with open disgust.
So, he’d been faking the whole time.
He deliberately let her walk into a trap so Olivia Rockefeller and those other socialites could humiliate her.
Even though it was typical, it still stung.
She suppressed the pain and calmly asked him, “Want some soup?”
Alex sneered. “Didn’t you say you’d never make soup for me again?”
He had that ‘I knew you were faking it’ tone.
Eleanor corrected, “I’m talking about hangover soup.”
Alex had never enjoyed her soup, and she’d always had to coax him to drink it; then, he would complain that it tasted too medicinal.
But he had no idea it was a medicinal soup, specifically designed to purge toxins from his body.
Everyone said that Alex wasn’t interested in women; he even believed himself to be indifferent, like he could remain unmoved even if a woman stripped naked and lay in his arms.
In reality, he simply lacked the ability. Someone had poisoned him with a slow-acting toxin that wouldn’t kill him but would prevent him from having children.
Aunt Vivian pressured him to marry her not because she feared he would marry Olivia Rockefeller and weaken her power, but because Eleanor could help him detoxify his system.
These were secrets Alex would never know.
“All I ever hear from you is soup this, soup that. What else can you even talk about?” Alex misinterpreted her offer, and his expression darkened.
Eleanor smoothly changed the subject. “Let’s talk about the divorce then. Did you see my WhatsApp message? Make sure your assistant doesn’t schedule anything for you tomorrow at ten a.m. Let’s finalize this.”
Alex didn’t respond.
“I’m sorry for taking Olivia’s place for the past three years. Just bear with me for one more night; I’ll clear out tomorrow.” Eleanor lowered her gaze, feeling another pang in her heart.
Alex should be happy that she wanted a divorce, but there was something in her tone when Eleanor brought it up, and it irked him.
His voice turned cold. “Are you clearing the position for me, or am I clearing it for you?”
Eleanor didn’t understand. “What do you mean?”
Alex: “You know exactly what I mean.”
Eleanor: “How would I know if you don’t tell me?”
“Stop pretending. No sooner had Aunt Vivian passed than you were set on divorce. Is it because she’s gone and no one will give you a million a month anymore? Plus, you know very well that if Aunt Vivian hadn’t forced me to, I wouldn’t even set foot in this house, let alone let you swipe my credit card. A woman like you, willing to sell herself for money, must be eager to find her next sugar daddy.” Alex’s words were like venom.
Over the past three years, Eleanor had heard similar things countless times. It would be a lie to say it didn’t hurt.
In the first year of the marriage, the money Vivian gave her went to funding her grandfather’s cancer treatments.
After his passing, the monthly money was used to buy detoxifying ingredients for Alex and tucked away in a savings account.
A month ago, at a Traditional Remedies auction, a mysterious buyer paid twenty-four million dollars for a century-old blood ginseng.
That ginseng ended up in Alex’s stomach.
The effect was obvious; he was now able to be with any woman he wanted.
With his connections, Alex could find out where that money went with a single phone call.
But he stubbornly believed she was just a gold digger. If she had told him the truth, he would dismiss it as another ploy.
“Cat got your tongue?” When she didn’t respond, Alex wouldn’t let her off the hook.
After hearing harsh words so many times, she had slowly become immune. No matter how nasty Alex was, how awful his words were, she could just tune it out.
Anyway, they were getting divorced tomorrow, so just endure it a little longer.
Eleanor gave herself a mental pep talk before smiling at the man. “If thinking that way makes you feel better, I have no objections.”
With that, she got up to leave.
As she passed Alex, he grabbed her wrist and yanked her back onto the sofa.
His large frame followed, pinning her down, the alcohol on his breath.
“What’s gotten into you?” Eleanor was too close to him; she felt the danger.
Alex glared at her. “Eleanor, you’ve occupied the position of Mrs. Sinclair for three years without fulfilling any of the duties. Did you think I was running some charity? I want to see if a woman who costs a million a month is studded with diamonds.”
As soon as he finished speaking, Alex’s passionless kiss came down hard and domineering.
Eleanor instinctively resisted but stopped abruptly, as she suddenly changed her mind.
Seeing this, the disgust in Alex’s eyes intensified, but his body was truthfully clamoring to tear her apart.
He didn’t have time to think about why he suddenly couldn’t resist Eleanor.
They had shared a bed for three years, and he hadn’t felt even the slightest desire for her.
It must be her eagerness to find her next man that had enraged him. Why should he let her walk away still a virgin? Even if he was letting her go, he would brand her with a mark she couldn’t erase.
He loathed her, so he wouldn’t be gentle when he took her. Eleanor cried from the pain, which was worse than all the harsh words Alex had piled on her over the past three years.
Eleanor didn’t hold back. She scratched and clawed at him, and Alex responded with even rougher handling.
In the silent The Penthouse, sounds of passion and conflict echoed for a long time.
Chapter 3 - What About Alexander Sinclair_
The next day.
Eleanor was jolted awake by the insistent ringing of the villa’s landline. Groggily, she answered, “Hello?”
Her voice was a rough croak.
“Eleanor, what’s wrong? Are you sick?” Her bestie, Sophia Sinclair’s voice, filled the receiver with concern.
Eleanor couldn’t exactly explain that Alex Sinclair had practically drained the life out of her the night before. She mumbled evasively, “Just a bit of a cold. What’s up?”
“Weren’t we supposed to celebrate your divorce? I’ve been waiting at the restaurant for ages, and your cell isn’t picking up…”
Before Sophia could finish, Eleanor shot upright in bed, suddenly wide awake. She glanced at the clock; the hands were pointing to eleven.
an hour past the scheduled time of her divorce from Alex.
She scanned the room but there was no trace of Alex.
The guy had probably left without a word.
At Moonbeam Bistro, Sophia stared at the gauze wrapped around Eleanor’s hand. After hearing about the injury and gruesome cleaning process, she was practically seeing red. “Is Alex even fit to be called a husband? Your own husband? Your hand gets messed up, and he can’t even be bothered to answer the phone or sign off on your medical forms. He’s too busy cozying up to his side piece, and then he lets you get publicly humiliated. I swear, I could kill someone.”
Her voice was a little too loud, drawing glances from nearby tables. Eleanor raised a hand to shield her face, shushing her. “Keep it down, Soph.”
“No way, I haven’t even started on you yet! What were you thinking, not divorcing a guy like that? Do you want to keep him around for the holidays just to stuff the turkey?” Sophia was beyond exasperated.
Eleanor quickly defended herself. “I didn’t say I wasn’t getting a divorce. We just…didn’t get it done this morning.”
She’d called Alex but his assistant picked up, fobbing her off with the excuse that ‘Mr. Sinclair was in a meeting’.
“And why didn’t you get it done? Because you overslept!” Sophia looked like she’d just swallowed a lemon. “Three years of marriage, you barely get any sleep. But the night before the divorce, you get some action? What, a last hurrah before you’re single again?”
Eleanor weakly countered, “What’s wrong with a divorce romp?”
Pfft…
A snicker came from behind them. Eleanor instinctively turned, only to meet a pair of icy eyes.
Of course, it was Alex.
He was impeccably dressed, with an equally well-groomed man beside him; the one who had laughed. It was Julian Stevenson, Alex’s childhood friend.
Besides Julian, Olivia Rockefeller was by Alex’s side. It wasn’t clear if she had overheard Sophia’s comment implying that Eleanor and Alex had consummated their marriage. Olivia’s face, usually composed and elegant, now showed a crack in its flawless facade.
How could this be? She deliberately sent pictures to Eleanor last night and had someone call her to provoke a reaction. The point was to make Alex loathe Eleanor even more.
If he hated her so much, why did he sleep with her?
No one knew better than Olivia that Alex was a man of iron self-control.
But he had lost control with Eleanor.
Did that mean his feelings for her were changing?
She had spent three years abroad, while Eleanor had been by his side every day and night. Who could guarantee that Alex hadn’t developed feelings for her over time?
Olivia’s heart twisted with bitterness, and her hatred for Eleanor intensified.
Julian, oblivious to her inner turmoil, saw an opportunity to tease Alex and couldn’t resist. He deliberately baited Eleanor, “Mrs. Sinclair, how was the divorce romp?”
Eleanor didn’t want to dignify such a ridiculous question with an answer. But seeing Alex’s face, warning her not to ‘say anything out of line or he’d strangle her’, a rebellious streak surged within her. She shot back, “It was okay, I guess.”
Her rating was decidedly lukewarm.
No man could tolerate such an assessment.
Especially not someone as high-and-mighty as Alex.
His glare could have set her on fire. Eleanor couldn’t care less; now that she wasn’t obligated to coax him into drinking soup, why should she bother watching his moods? She lifted her chin, meeting his gaze head-on.
Alex nearly scoffed. Ever since his aunt’s passing, Eleanor had transformed. The docile, sweet woman he knew was gone, replaced by someone sharp-tongued and defiant.
Then again, it made sense. She was eager to find a replacement, and so there was no point in pretending anymore.
A woman like that wasn’t even worth a second glance.
“Three PM,” Alex snapped, tossing the time like a gauntlet before striding away, as if being in the same room as her was repulsive.
“Alex,” Olivia called softly, hurrying after him. As she turned, she shot Eleanor a look filled with venom.
“Daring to trash Mr. Sinclair’s skills in bed? You’re a true warrior,” Julian said, then left with a final, teasing nod.
Eleanor ignored Julian’s comment. After a moment, she processed Alex’s words.
Three PM at the Marriage Bureau for their divorce.
Great. She actually had an appetite now.