Looking at them now, they seemed more like a real family than he ever had.
How harmonious.
"Hildegarde..."
For the first time, he called her by her full name.
"Those fifteen percent are mine. Whether I can handle them or not isn't your concern."
"And I want those shares only to secure Penelope's future."
That was the truth. Wilfred had never intended to spend this money.
The fifteen percent was for Penelope.
A daughter deserved to be raised in comfort.
He refused to let anyone say that after coming to live with him, Penelope had gone from an heiress to a fallen phoenix.
Hildegarde's face turned to ice, her eyes filled with contempt. "How noble that sounds. You think I believe you? You invested in my company's stock behind my back. If I dig deep enough, I could easily argue that you stole insider information and manipulated Pruitt Group's stock price."
"You won't walk away with a single cent of that fifteen percent."
"Yeah! Not a single cent!" Hilary crossed her arms, her little lips jutting out in a pout.
After saying this, Hildegarde lifted her chin again, brows raised, wearing that signature look of cold control. "Wilfred, stop throwing tantrums."
"I don't want to—and I don't have time to—indulge your theatrics."
"If you're upset, take some time off. Use my supplementary card, go on vacation for a few days. Come back when you've calmed down."
Hildegarde felt she had given Wilfred more than enough of a way out.
If he had any sense, he would take the lifeline.
"Hildegarde, I'm sorry. I don't love you anymore."
Wilfred shook his head slowly.
He had loved this woman for five years. He had given up everything for her.
Revolving around her, around the children, around this family.
And what had it gotten him?
The moment her first love returned from abroad, she had cast him aside like a worn-out shoe.
He was done.
"Hildegarde, let's get divorced."
"You—"
Her breathing grew ragged. Her porcelain skin flushed red.
"Wilfred, do you actually think I can't live without you? That my life depends on you?"
"If you insist on going down this road, then fine—I'll grant your wish!"
"Just don't come crying to me later!"
Scratch, scratch, scratch...
Snatching up a pen, Hildegarde furiously scrawled her signature across the divorce agreement.
Crack!
She hurled the ballpoint pen at Wilfred's feet. It shattered on impact.
"Wilfred, I hope you don't regret this."
"I'd love to see how you survive without me."