Divorce? Not So Fast, Wife!

Chapter 5 How Could You Be So Disrespectful?

Richard's expression was dark and stormy.

No one had ever dared to talk to him so brazenly before. Throughout his life, everyone who crossed paths with him treated him with deference and caution. But Claire? She didn't seem the least bit intimidated. In fact, she had the audacity to insult him outright!

He fixed his icy gaze on her, his tone detached. "You're the one playing both sides. You keep talking about wanting a divorce, but didn't you convince my mother to oppose it?"

He'd encountered women like Claire before—scheming and manipulative. They pretended to want out, but in truth, they clung on tightly.

After all, the Hawkins family was a financial empire. Even a fraction of their wealth would guarantee a life of luxury for her. And with the Ashford family no longer enjoying the glory of their past, they were desperate for any lifeline.

Claire's face flushed with anger as she snapped back, "I didn't! Stop twisting the truth!"

She wanted this divorce just as much as he did. Why would she ever bribe the old lady to stop it? It made no sense! Who knew why Helen Hawkins was so against the idea? Either way, this wasn't her fault, and she wasn't about to take the blame.

Richard's voice remained cold and unyielding. "I don't care what kind of games you've been playing. What matters is that you convince my mother to approve this divorce." He added with a pointed look, "Once we're divorced, your card will be unfrozen."

Claire's jaw clenched. "I already told you, I'm not playing games. But fine, I'll help you get what you want. I want out just as badly as you do!" Her glare intensified. "But could you unfreeze my card first? Freezing it was a low blow, even for you!"

Richard's lips curled into a cold smirk as he watched her defiant stance. The harder she pushed, the more convinced he became that she was scheming. Hadn't she always claimed she wanted nothing to do with him? If she hadn't pulled some trick, why would his mother suddenly refuse to let them part ways?

He fixed his dark, probing eyes on her. "It better be true."

Until their divorce was finalized, he had no intention of unfreezing her funds. Let's see how long this so-called independence of hers would last. Without money, her true colors would show soon enough, and she'd be the one begging to end their marriage.

Frustrated by his obstinance, Claire rolled her eyes and stormed out of the room. As she turned the corner, she nearly bumped into Helen.

"Claire," Helen greeted warmly, reaching out to take her hand. "How did your talk with Richard go? If that brat dares to bully you, you let me know. You're an important part of this family, and I won't tolerate anyone mistreating you."

Claire gave an awkward smile, quickly shaking her head. "He didn't bully me," she replied, though her words felt hollow. Of course he bullied her! Freezing her card was practically tyrannical. But for the sake of money—and freedom—she'd endure it. Just a little longer until the divorce.

Helen patted her hand gently, her tone affectionate. "That's good to hear. Richard may seem cold, but he has a warm heart underneath it all. You two should work things out—and maybe give me a grandchild soon."

Claire's face turned crimson with embarrassment. "Uh, I... I'll try," she stammered, sidestepping the comment entirely before darting upstairs like a startled rabbit. The moment her bedroom door shut, anger boiled to the surface.

Her eyes landed on her frozen bank card, and frustration surged anew.

'Richard Hawkins, you petty tyrant!'

She flopped onto her bed, her mind racing. How could she possibly convince Helen to change her stance on the divorce without sabotaging herself?

The Hawkins family was abuzz with excitement over Richard's progress. After a week of rest, he was finally able to move around—albeit in a wheelchair—and was beginning his long road to recovery. His legs, weakened from weeks of immobility, would need extensive rehabilitation before he could stand again.

To celebrate his recovery, the family planned a grand banquet. Even Michael Hawkins returned from his overseas business trips for the occasion.

Claire, however, was the last to hear about it. She only realized something was afoot when she bumped into an unfamiliar woman in the hallway while wandering out in her loungewear.

"Who are you?" Claire asked, her tone calm yet firm.

The woman, dripping in expensive jewelry, shot her a disdainful look, her eyes sweeping over Claire's casual outfit with unconcealed contempt. "And who might you be?"

Claire met her scorn with an unflinching gaze. "I'm Claire. And you are?"

The woman let out a derisive laugh. "Oh, you must be Richard's new wife—Claire from the Ashford family, right?" Her tone dripped with mockery. "Coming from such humble beginnings, I suppose decorum isn't your strong suit. Were you planning to attend the family banquet dressed like that? How disgraceful."

Claire's expression remained cool. "Loungewear is for relaxing at home. If I'm in my own home, why shouldn't I dress comfortably? Are you suggesting I'm just a guest here?"

The woman's face darkened. "I'm your sister-in-law! Is that any way to talk to me?"

"Oh," Claire replied, feigning surprise. "You're my sister-in-law? My apologies. I didn't realize—especially since you were talking to me like a debt collector."

The woman, Sophia Hawkins, was fuming, about to retort, when Helen emerged from a nearby room. Sophia quickly softened her expression, rushing to Helen's side. "Helen, Richard's new wife has no manners! Look at what she's wearing, and she accused me of being a debt collector!"

Helen cut her off with a chuckle. "Wearing loungewear at home is hardly bad manners. Claire is in her own home. She can dress however she likes—that's called being comfortable." Her smile faded slightly as she added, "And if she snapped at you, perhaps your words weren't very kind either."

Sophia's face flushed with embarrassment as she stammered, "I didn't mean—"

But Helen had already turned her attention to Claire, taking her hand warmly. "Come on, dear. Let's grab some snacks. Don't worry about anyone else—you're the real lady of this house."

Sophia followed behind, her face twisted in barely contained fury. Inside, she seethed with resentment. Why was Helen so protective of Claire, while she, who had schemed her way into this family, never received such favor?

Her eyes flashed coldly. Claire wouldn't have the last laugh. Not if she had anything to say about it.