She Was Never Just a Pretty Face novel Chapter 120

Hilda was absolutely not going to sleep with him.

First, they were getting a divorce.

Second, she was pregnant.

—She wasn't even past her first trimester.

Luther's current volatile state could easily harm the baby.

She didn't hesitate to use the most vicious words she could muster—

"Luther, you'd better let me go."

"If I actually regret this and refuse to divorce you, your precious Jolie will probably slit her wrists or jump off a building again. If she dies, just think about how heartbroken you'd be. Why risk hurting the love of your life for a moment of pleasure?"

Luther stared at her intently.

Looking at her as if she were a ghost.

Their bodies were still pressed tightly together.

Beneath him was a soft, fragrant, beautiful woman.

But the words coming out of her mouth were like daggers.

After a long silence, Luther spoke, slow and ice-cold. "You don't need to be this cruel. Jolie has never said such vicious things. She's always wished the best for you, and for little Annie."

Hilda laughed. "That's because she isn't the one having her husband and her child's father stolen. Of course she can easily spit out a few hypocritical pleasantries."

It was pointless.

She had no desire to argue with Luther anymore.

Even regarding Jolie faking the story of saving his life, Hilda didn't even care to expose it.

Luther wouldn't believe her anyway.

They deserved each other.

They could stay tangled up for the rest of their lives. Just stop bothering her.

Once her art exhibition was over, she planned to take her mother and Annie to live in Havenworth City. It was a massive metropolis with plenty of opportunities.

The woman remained completely cold and detached.

The man pinned her down for a long time.

Eventually, he slowly pushed himself up.

He just stood there, staring down at her with an unreadable expression. It was an emotion he couldn't even decipher himself—frustration, reluctance, and perhaps something else entirely.

The morning light grew steadily brighter.

It finally illuminated the man's face.

His gaze hardened little by little.

As if he had made his final decision.

The revelation that Hilda was The Bibliophile had not altered his choice. He still cherished Jolie; he still held her on a pedestal as the most important person in his world, elevating her even above his own grandmother. The man's voice was elegant but icy. "Let's sign the divorce papers this afternoon! I won't be stingy with the settlement, but I have my terms. So let's just leave it at this, Hilda. We'll part on good terms, just like you wanted. Didn't you want this painting? Now that the truth is out, and you want to take back all of your affection, I'll grant you that. Besides, I doubt you have any of those feelings left anyway!"

The morning light also brightened Hilda's face.

Her nose was slightly red.

But she answered with absolute unwavering certainty—

"Yes. The feelings are gone."

"Luther, this divorce is the right decision."

She propped herself up with one hand, grabbed her coat nearby, and slipped it on.

As she stood up to leave, her legs were shaky.

But she still resolutely walked away from him.

Step by step, she walked out of his sight, out of his orbit.

That phrase, *Luther, your eyes hold the sea, the blue in the haze*, felt like something from a distant, ancient past. It felt like it belonged to another lifetime, or a fleeting dream—as if it had never truly existed, just a beautiful illusion she had fabricated alone.

A tear slipped down her cheek.

Not from sorrow, but from the realization that none of it had been worth it.

But she had no regrets.

Luther stood bathed in the morning light.

He shouldn't have looked back.

She brought the paintings to Erudite Arts.

June was incredibly surprised when she saw *First Love*.

Hadn't Mr. Sanford bought this piece?

How did it end up back in Director Cassidy's hands?

Hilda handed the painting to June and instructed casually, "Find a professional framer to restore this. Oh, hold on a second, let me snap a photo."

Hilda took a picture of the inscription.

*Luther, your eyes hold the sea, the blue in the haze.*

Then, she posted it on her social media account under The Bibliophile.

—*[First Love] will be returning to the exhibition.*

By now, The Bibliophile had over a million followers.

Many of them were high-society elites and art connoisseurs.

That single post completely blew up Luther's social circles.

So The Bibliophile had harbored a secret crush on Luther.

So they were old flames.

Luther received countless calls digging for gossip.

Including one from Luther's mother, Eleanor, urging him to settle down and stop getting wrapped up in scandals with people from the art world. Even Jolie was incredibly upset, wondering how this 'Bibliophile' had gotten the painting back, completely convinced she was some tramp trying to grab Luther's attention.

Luther sat in his apartment.

His mind was in utter turmoil.

He simply turned off his phone.

He was utterly exhausted, yet he still sat there, smoking.

As the smoke curled through the air, he couldn't stop analyzing Hilda's actions. She wasn't acting out of spite; she just didn't care. She was already using their past to generate publicity. She was going to be a highly successful artist and a brilliant businesswoman, but she would never be Luther Sanford's wife again. She disdained the very idea of being his wife.

Luther's fingers trembled slightly as he held his cigarette.