“With Lisa–such an exceptional wife–right here at home, how dare you dally with another woman! And flaunt it for all to see!”
“You’re publicly shaming the Ford name!
Humiliating me before everyone!”
His roars reverberated through the cavernous living room, carrying undeniable authority.
“You will issue a statement immediately! Clarify to the world who remains the rightful president of Ford Enterprises!
If I catch you near that woman again, you’ll face consequences!”
Alexander stood in the shadows, his handsome face impassive, yet radiating an intimidating aura.
He didn’t even glance at his enraged grandfather, gaze fixed emptily as he spoke with detached calm.
“Grandfather, from now on, I intend to live by my own choices.”
Victor swayed, vision darkening, as the butler rushed to steady him.
“You… repeat that!”
“Grandfather, let me speak with him.”
Lisa set down her teacup and rose.
She approached Alexander, the few paces between them crackling with tension.
[Slap!]
A resounding blow struck his cheek, the sharp report stunning everyone present.
Alexander hadn’t expected this little thing would dare strike him?
He pressed his tongue against his stinging cheek before stating evenly, “Let’s discuss this in the study.”
Lisa turned expressionlessly, leading the way upstairs.
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Victor stared after them, still processing the shock of that slap.
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The next second, she smirked inwardly. They should’ve put that punk in his place long ago–maybe then he wouldn’t act so arrogant!
In the study,
The door clicked shut, muffling the chaos outside.
Alexander leaned casually against the Antique Mahogany Desk, loosening his tie. A faint red mark still lingered on his striking face, yet his posture remained relaxed, eyes fixed on her with detached scrutiny.
“Lisa, you’ve had your slap. I’ve given you face.”
“Now tell me, what else can you do besides tattling?”
Lisa let out a bitter laugh at his words.
So he thought every time grandfather raged, it was her doing.
At first, she’d believed her only flaw was loving too humbly to win his heart. Never imagined he’d brand her character… as vile.
How ridiculous!
This Home Was No Longer Hers
“Alexander, I don’t care what decisions you make or who you announce publicly.”
Her voice remained calm, as if discussing something unrelated to herself.
“But please consider Grandpa’s health.”
Alexander curled his lips in a humorless smirk.
“Lisa, do you really think you’re the lady of the Ford family?
You’re not expecting me to issue some clarifying statement like Grandpa did, are you?”
His tone dripped with deliberate mockery.
Lisa’s expression stayed detached as she studied the man before her–a terrifying stranger.
“No need. I won’t cling to you. I know my place.”
A stone that couldn’t be warmed in three years wasn’t worth holding any longer.
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“Good. From today, Ford family affairs are none of your concern.
Just worry about yourself.”
He straightened up, stepping closer until she turned away.
“Nine tomorrow morning. Registry Office. Don’t be late.”
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Lisa lifted her gaze. Those eyes once brimming with gentle warmth now held only icy stillness–no rip- ple of sorrow or reluctance.
“Fine.”
A single crisp syllable.
Alexander’s prepared speeches jammed in his throat.
He hadn’t expected such… finality.
Her reaction was too calm.
Unsettlingly calm.
He’d braced for clinging desperation or compensation demands.
After a long silence, he spoke again.
“I know you love Memorial Pavilion. I’ll leave it to you.”
The Memorial Pavilion at Royal Estate–where they’d shared monthly moments. The butler mentioned
Madam adored lilies.
So he’d filled it with rare breeds gathered worldwide.
His lilies bloomed in nine colors!
Memorial Pavilion!
The name stabbed Lisa’s heart like a blade, yet she clenched her fists, betraying no anger.
Wasn’t this the garden he’d curated for Vivian?
Who did he think he was fooling?
But since he insisted… she’d graciously accept.
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Those flowers needed tending… and she had unfinished business there anyway.
“Thank you! Then Mr. Ford will have to move out!”
Lisa stated flatly before walking away.
Minutes later, she descended the stairs with a small duffle bag from the master bedroom.
Inside lay only her own sparse belongings–the same items she’d brought to the Ford home years ago.
She left every jewel Grandpa gifted untouched.
Alexander… had never given her anything.
She passed through the living room without sparing anyone a second glance.
This place that housed her three–year identity as Mrs. Ford felt like a temporary stopover now.
Time to leave.
No reason to linger.
As Lisa stepped through the front gates, Andrew hurried forward.
“Madam, are you leaving?”
“Mhm!”
Andrew spoke again,
“Actually, Mr. Ford, there’s still hope. This isn’t a big deal. The company has many great products.
Please be patient!
After all, these things take time.‘
11
He felt that as a wife, she should show some patience toward her husband.
That would be the greatest encouragement for him–he meant the three–minute thing.
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