Ditched the Cheater, Pregnant by Mr. Righ novel Chapter 2

Chapter 2 She Wants a Divorce

The second Quinn answered, Rosalie’s voice, sharp with alarm, filled her ear.
“Quinn, what on earth are you talking about? A divorce? Don’t you dare even think it! I forbid it!”
Quinn’s own voice was eerily calm as she replied, “I can’t live like this anymore, Rosalie. He doesn’t love me…”
Rosalie sighed, a sound of weary patience, “Quinn, how can you think like that? Chase is gentle, considerate, and successful. Marrying him was the best thing that ever happened to you. If he doesn’t love you, have you ever stopped to think that maybe… it’s you? Maybe you’re just not trying hard enough?”
It was always the same. Everyone said the same things. Quinn finally had a name for it now: gaslighting.
She didn’t argue. She didn’t want to say anything at all. She was just so tired.
Under the guise of helping her, Rosalie had stripped her of everything: her family, her friends, and even her chance at love.
Sensing her silence, Rosalie urged as her voice grew more urgent, “Quinn, don’t do something stupid. Even if you don’t care about yourself, think about Mom and Dad! They raised you! Are you really going to repay their kindness by giving them a heart attack?”
Elaine and her husband cared more about their public image than anything else. They would never allow a divorce. Quinn knew the road ahead would be difficult.
“I have to go. I’m busy,” Rosalie said, wrapping up the conversation. “Stop thinking such foolish thoughts, and don’t you dare mention the word ‘divorce’ again. Do you understand me?”
Rosalie hung up and immediately dialed Chase.
At that moment, Chase was with his father, on their way to meet the true patriarch of the Sterling family. Theirs was just a minor branch of the clan, but in the eyes of the public, they were immensely wealthy. Only they knew that compared to the man they were about to see, their fortune was a mere drop in the ocean. All of their business ventures depended on his goodwill.
Their branch was the most successful of the offshoots, so every year, Chase had to accompany his father for this meeting to report on their progress. In truth, it was an opportunity to maintain a connection. Just being granted an audience with this man was a status symbol.
Chase’s phone buzzed. His father, Charles Sterling, who was walking ahead, shot him a furious glare.
“Put that on silent! Don’t you dare cause any trouble when we see him!”
Seeing Rosalie’s name on the screen, Chase whispered urgently, “Dad, I have to take this. It’s important!”
“What could be more important than meeting Mr. Julian Sterling?” Charles hissed, looking like he wanted to kick his son. “Hang up and turn it off! Now!”
Chase knew Julian Sterling’s reputation. Julian only saw them once a year, and every time, Chase was so overwhelmed by Julian’s sheer presence and authority that he could barely speak. With a grimace, he declined the call, quickly typed out a message, and silenced his phone.
Meanwhile, on the twenty-eighth floor of the Apex Tower, a man stood before a panoramic window that offered a breathtaking view of all of Lakeshore City.
A matte black phone was held loosely in his long, elegant fingers, the dark material making his skin look as smooth and pale as jade.
“Julian, did you really buy that yacht?” a curious voice asked from the other end of the line.
Julian Sterling hummed in affirmation.
“No way! Why would you buy something like that?” the voice exclaimed.
It wasn’t just any yacht; it was a superyacht, the ultimate symbol of status and power. But Julian had always been understated, never one to follow trends or show off. There were fewer than one hundred and fifty superyachts in the entire world, meaning only a handful of ultra-rich individuals owned one. Most of these owners were anonymous, their identities a mystery even to the media, and they certainly didn’t care about Forbes lists.
A superyacht cost over three hundred million dollars to build, with daily docking and maintenance fees running into the hundreds of thousands. That wasn’t even counting the full-time crew and specialized engineers, an astronomical annual expense. It was a club so exclusive it existed in the stratosphere, far above any conventional mountain of fame and fortune.
Julian didn’t need a boat to prove who he was.
A polite, measured knock sounded at the door. “Talk later,” Julian said into the phone and hung up.
Soon, Chase came face-to-face with the head of the Sterling family. Julian was a late-in-life child for the old master of the family. Most people called him Mr. Julian Sterling out of respect, even those who were technically his elders. Chase was of the same generation, yet every time he saw him, he felt like he couldn’t breathe.
It wasn’t that Julian was ugly. On the contrary, generations of the powerful family marrying beautiful women had perfected the Sterling gene pool, and Julian’s looks were legendary. But the first thing that struck you about him wasn’t his face.
It was his aura.
He wore a tailored shirt, vest, and trousers, a picture of refined civility that somehow emanated immense power. His sleeves were casually rolled, held in place by black leather garters that constricted around his strong forearms, a visually arresting display of restrained strength. His features were sharp and aggressively handsome, his deep-set eyes holding a chilling indifference that made people instinctively fear him.
Charles was technically his senior, an uncle by relation, but he wouldn’t dare act like one. His voice was laced with deference as he reported on the company’s projects.
Chase stood silently to the side, unable to get a word in, secretly studying the man who was so powerful it defied description. Men, more than anyone, were drawn to power. He wondered if he would ever be as successful as Julian, the ruler of a business empire.
“Chase?”
His father’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts.
He quickly straightened, replying, “Yes.”
“Mr. Julian Sterling is asking you a question.”
Even Charles, an elder, didn’t dare be familiar. He addressed Julian formally as “Mr. Julian Sterling.”
Chase quickly looked at Julian. Their eyes met. Julian’s gaze was dark and profound, like the depths of the ocean, possessing a fatal allure, yet radiating an endless sense of danger. Chase didn’t even have the courage to hold his gaze for more than a second. “Mr. Julian Sterling,” he said respectfully.
Julian asked a few questions about a project. Thankfully, Chase had prepared and answered them all.
Julian gave a slight nod, commenting, “Good.”
Chase let out a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding, only then noticing that his shirt was soaked with sweat and sticking to his back.
Julian looked at him and said, his tone casual, “I heard from family that you’re married.”
“Yes,” Chase said quickly. “For three years.”
Julian’s long fingers picked up a gold-embossed invitation from his desk and slid it across.
“I’m hosting a party on my yacht this weekend. You should bring your wife.”
Both Charles and Chase were stunned into silence. An invitation from Julian was a golden ticket. This was an exclusive circle that few could ever hope to enter. And to have it personally extended by the man himself was an incredible honor.
They practically bowed their way out of his office, thanking him profusely.
Charles wiped the sweat from his forehead, knowing that their projects for the next year were secure.
Chase let out a long sigh of relief and immediately stepped aside to call Rosalie back.
Rosalie first went through her usual routine of feigned concern for him before getting to the point.
“How are things with you and Quinn? I just called her, and she said something about… wanting a divorce?”
“What?” Chase barked and froze, and then anger surged through him. “She said she wants a divorce?”