She Was Never Just the Wife novel Chapter 39

Chapter 39

Chapter 39

48

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The black car came to a smooth stop outside the grand, ornately carved iron gates of the Lucero Mansion.

Celia pushed open the car door, letting the crisp morning air wash over her, filled with the garden’s unique freshness. She stood tall, aded her clothes, and erased the last hint of fatigue from her face.

“I’ll wait for you in the car,” Haley said as she rolled down the window. Her voice was steady, but her eyes spoke silent support. “If you need me, say the word.”

“Okay,” Celia replied, nodding as she turned toward the entrance she’d walked through countless times, yet never truly felt was home.

Brogan was already waiting at the door. When he saw Celia, he looked visibly relieved, but his eyes were complicated, as if he wanted to say something but held back.

“Mrs. Lucero, Mr. Tanner Lucero is waiting for you in the study,” he said, stepping aside to show her in. After a brief pause, he lowered his voice, “Mr. Beckham Lucero is also home. He doesn’t seem to be in a good mood.”

Celia didn’t slow her pace, replied with a simple “mm” to show she’d heard. She thought coldly, ‘Beckham’s mood has nothing to do with me.’

She walked through the familiar courtyard and down the hallway lined with famous paintings. The study door was slightly ajar.

As Celia reached out to knock, a hand suddenly lunged from the side, grabbing her wrist with a rough, unyielding force.

“Celia.” Beckham’s voice was laced with suppressed anger, as if squeezed out through clenched teeth.

He had appeared at the corner of the hallway at some point, and now stood before her, his tall figure casting an imposing shadow. His eyes, bloodshot, bore into her intensely.

Celia was caught off guard, stumbling as he yanked her. Sharp pain radiated from her wrist. She frowned, struggling to break free, but his grip was immovable, like iron clamps.

“Beckham, let go,” Celia said. She lifted her head, her voice turning cold as she looked directly into his eyes, which were swirling with anger and an unreadable agitation.

“Let go?” Beckham scoffed, his grip only tightening. He snatched a photo from his suit pocket and thrust it right in front of her face. “Explain this to me. Who the hell were you with last night?”

landed on the photo. The angle was obviously from a hidden camera, and the resolution wasn’t great. The background was a dim hotel hallway.

Celia’s gaze

In the picture, a tall man was carrying a woman in his arms. She was wearing an ivory white dress, the exact one Celia had on last night. Most of her face was buried against his chest, making her expression impossible

to see.

But the side of her cheek was flushed with an unnatural red. One hand weakly gripped his shirt, her whole body soft and dependent, practically melting into his embrace.

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Chapter 39

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The man’s face was deliberately hidden, showing only a sharp jawline and part of his profile. But Celia recognized the deep gray suit jacket and those steady, powerful arms holding her in an instant. It was Elliott.

Her heart gave a sudden jolt, not out of guilt, but from a chilling fury at being watched and played. ‘Who snapped this? When did it happen? Was it Aiyana? Someone from Louis’s crew? Or someone else entirely?’ she wondered.

The color drained from her cheeks, but her gaze turned icy and razor-sharp. “Were you spying on me?” Celia’s voice was so cold.

“Me? Spying on you?” Beckham sounded as if he had heard a joke, the redness in his eyes intensifying. It was a mix of rage from betrayal and humiliation, coupled with an unacknowledged, uncontrollable panic.

“Celia, look at yourself. Your face is flushed, throwing yourself into another man’s arms. Do you have any shame left? We’re not even divorced yet. Are you this eager to find someone new? Or have you been involved with him all along?”

His voice kept rising, booming through the quiet hallway. A few passing servants stopped, staring in shock and unease, but none dared to come any closer.

The pain in her wrist intensified, and Celia could even hear the faint creak of her bones under his forceful grip. Anger, mixed with long-suppressed humiliation and the absurdity of his baseless accusations, surged through her chest like molten lava.

She stared at the man before her, his face twisted with fury, hurling insults, her so-called husband of three years, who had never given her a single ounce of warmth or respect.

All at once, she refused to endure it any longer. “Shame?” Celia sneered, her lips curling into a cold, mocking smile that stood in stark contrast to her pale, eerily calm face.

“Beckham, you want to lecture me about shame?” Her words were sharp and clear, like ice shattering on the floor. “In the past three years, the women by your side have changed one after another. Should I list their names?

“From your company’s starlets, to your business partners’ daughters, to your precious Laylah, did the word shame ever cross your mind when you were with them?”

Beckham’s pupils shrank, his face twitching violently as if she’d ripped open his ugliest wound. “You’re talking

nonsense.”

“You know perfectly well I’m not,” Celia shot back, her eyes cold and venomous. “Should I go dig up evidence? Or do you really think your affairs were so well hidden that no one noticed?”

the

She stepped in closer, her wrist still trapped in his grip, but her aura unshaken. “Beckham, when it comes to being shameless, I can’t hold a candle to you.

“At least I never slept around with countless people while we were still married, not to mention the mystery child you had before we got married.”

Beckham’s temples pulsed with fury, rage mixed with the sting of being exposed, making him snap completely. He raised his other hand, poised to bring it down on her. The servants nearby let out a chorus of startled gasps.

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Chapter 39

Her gaze sharpened. As Beckham’s hand swung down, Celia twisted her trapped wrist at an odd angle, no brute force, a precise jab to the web between his thumb and forefinger.

At the same time, she shifted her stance and turned her body, expertly redirecting most of his strength.

448

It was a trick she’d picked up in med school, using pressure points and joint manipulation. She never thought she’d actually need it in a moment like this.

Beckham felt a sudden numbness and pain shoot through his wrist, forcing him to let go. He stared in disbelief at his limp hand, then at Celia. She had already stepped back, rubbing her reddened wrist. He recognized a side of her.

Celia shook out her aching wrist, bruises blooming across her skin. She didn’t bother to look at Beckham, treating him like he was nothing more than a bad memory lingering in the air.

Turning to Brogan, who was still stunned, her tone was calm but carried an undeniable authority. “Brogan, Tanner is in the study, right?”

Brogan nodded quickly, as if waking from a trance. “Yes, yes, Mr. Tanner Lucero is waiting for you.”

Celia walked straight past him toward the study, her stride unwavering, spine straight, as if the heated clash moments ago had never existed.

As she passed Beckham, she paused for a split second, turning her head enough for only him to hear. Her voice was icy, cutting through the air like a blade.

none

“Beckham, the divorce agreement takes effect today. Legally, we’ll be strangers. Who I’m with, what I do, of it concerns you. And as for who’s dirty…” She let out a cold, mocking laugh. “At least the people I choose are better than you.”

With that, she didn’t hesitate. She pushed open the study door and walked in, leaving Beckham standing frozen in the middle of the hallway.

Beckham stared at the closed study door, his chest heaving, eyes so bloodshot they looked ready to burst. He still gripped the photo. Its edges crushed in his fist. Celia’s words strike precisely at the weakest and most unacknowledged parts of him.

Her defiance, her coldness, the blatant contempt and determination in her eyes, none of this was what he expected from her.

He thought she’d cry, make excuses, or swallow his rage like before and walk away quietly.

But she actually fought back. She broke free from him using a move he couldn’t understand. And she hit him with words so sharp.

What made his anger flare up even more, mixed with a confusing pang of pain, was the sight in the photo.

In the photo, she was leaning into the embrace of a stranger, showing a level of dependence and intimacy he had never seen from her in their three years of marriage.

“How could she?’ Beckham thought.

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Chapter 39

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The servants had already quietly scattered, but the tension from that confrontation still lingered in the air. Everyone had witnessed it.

The usually gentle and reserved Celia had actually struck back at Beckham and said things that left everyone utterly stunned.

Brogan stood not far away, watching Beckham look lost and furious, then glanced at the tightly shut study door. He couldn’t help but think, ‘Looks like everything’s about to turn upside down in this house.

*****

Inside the study, it was a whole different scene.

Tanner stood behind his desk, watching as Celia entered. His eyes lingered on her swollen wrist, then moved to her calm, composed face.

A complicated emotion flickered in his gaze. “You’re here,” he said, nodding toward the redwood chair beside him. “Take a seat.”

Celia sat down, took a small box from her purse, and set it gently on the desk. “Tanner, I’m sorry for making you worry last night. This is a small token of apology.

“I hope you’ll accept it.” Inside was a piece of fine cologne, known for its soothing and calming effect. Tanner took the box and nodded, not asking about last night. He opened a drawer, pulled out two copies of the divorce agreement, already signed and stamped, and slid them across the desk to Celia.

“Take a look. If everything’s in order, sign here, and it’s official. Brogan will handle the rest of the paperwork and formalities.”

Celia picked up the agreement and quickly looked it over. The terms were clear, nothing harsh or unreasonable. She picked up the pen and, with deliberate strokes, signed her name where it was required.

Her signature was bold and decisive, marking the end of an era. She set the pen down, carefully tucked one copy of the agreement into her bag, then stood and gave Tanner a deep, respectful bow.

She said, “Tanner, thank you for your care and support these past three years. Please take good care of yourself in the days ahead.”

Tanner gazed at her, his eyes gentle with the affection of an elder and tinged with regret. “Celia, it’s the Lucero family that let you down, and Beckham didn’t know what he had. If you ever need anything, don’t hesitate to

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