Door to stop 12

Chapter 0012 

ROWAN’S POINT OF VIEW 

Martha’s hands twisting nervously in front of her. She looked uneasy, her head lowered. 

“Sir,” she said softly. “Mrs. Janet… she hung up on me. She refused to come,” Martha continued, her voice barely above a whisper. 

I barely spared her a glance. As if I hadn’t heard it myself. Janet had been loud enough, and I wasn’t deaf. 

My eyes darkened more. “Call her again.” 

Martha hesitated. “Sir?” 

“Call her,” I repeated, my voice sharper, colder. “Don’t make me say it twice. Ask her which tie I should wear with the shirt.” 

Martha blinked, clearly confused. “But… I remember Mrs. Janet always pairing it with the dark red tie. We 

don’t have to bother her-” 

I turned my gaze on her. “Did I ask for your opinion? Do exactly as I said. Call her again. Get her back here.” 

Martha swallowed hard, nodding quickly before rushing out. 

I sat down on the edge of the couch, leaning forward with my elbows on my knees. My jaw tightened as I ran a hand through my hair. 

Where the hell was she last night? 

Janet never sleeps outside. But she did, last night. She hadn’t come home, which is quite unusual and somehow annoyed me. 

I remembered the low-key luxury car parked outside when I arrived yesterday. The thought had been gnawing at me ever since. 

Had she found someone else? No. That was impossible. It must have been some coincidence. 

No man could give her the life I had. Everything she ever wanted was right here. Who the hell could offer her more than I did? 

At first, I thought she was throwing one of her tantrums. Maybe she wanted something. But what more could she possibly want? I made sure she was comfortable, dressed her in the latest designs, showered her in luxury. Jewelry, clothes, vacations-anything she asked for. 

And this is how she repays me? 

Was she still upset about that damn trip? That was ridiculous. We could go anytime. I was helping a friend— anyone would have done the same. She doesn’t have to make a scene at all. 

I exhaled slowly. She’s just trying to get my attention. That’s all. She’s upset, and she wants me to coax her back. 

I checked my phone. No messages. 

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A humorless smirk pulled at my lips. 

How can she possibly walk away like that? From all I knew of her, she knew nothing but how to be a housewife. 

I wonder what she thinks life will be like when she leaves. She probably couldn’t even survive. 

Not to mention whether she’s able to find any real job. Even if she could, no job in this world could ever afford her the life she had with me. She was used to luxury-because of me. I’m the only reason she knows what luxury life is, and she’s getting used to it. 

She was nothing before me. 

But still, Janet wasn’t like this before, she used to be humble and gentle, she hardly speaks loud. 

This… this was a different version of her. A version I didn’t recognize. 

I exhaled, as I caught sight of the paper on the table behind my whiskey glass. 

Divorce. 

I shook my head. Why was she so desperate to end this marriage? 

Or had she already found someone else and was running to him? 

A dark chuckle escaped me. Let’s see who she thinks can have her. 

Just then, Martha returned, looking even more uneasy. 

“Sir…” she hesitated. “Ma’am wants you to answer the phone,” Martha whispered. 

I took the phone, schooling my voice into something rougher, sleepier. “What?” 

There was a pause on the other end before Janet’s voice came through, calm, detached. 

“In a few days, I’ll write a list and send it to you with where all your clothes are placed. I hope you won’t call me about these silly trivial things in the future.” 

I let out a cold, humorless laugh. “Silly trivial things? Janet, aren’t these ‘silly trivial things’ what you love doing most? You even wanted to control what underwear I wore. Isn’t that your biggest pursuit in life?” 

The moment the words left my mouth, I pursed my lips. 

Why the hell did I say that? 

Silence. 

Then, her voice-soft, but hoarse. “True. I should have some real pursuit, so I won’t care about these things anymore. Just sign the divorce papers. It’s best for both of us.” 

The anger I had barely managed to rein in flared back to life. 

“Janet, you’re not done yet, are you? Have you thrown enough of your tantrum?” 

Her response was immediate. 

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“No. Not at all. I don’t have a habit of throwing tantrums. I just need to focus on my own matters, not your things anymore.” 

Her voice was so… indifferent. 

“As you wish.” She added. 

And then she hung up. 

The next thing I knew, the bouquet of flowers on the table was flying across the room. It crashed against the floor, petals scattering everywhere. 

Martha jumped, eyes wide with fear. 

“Sir… please don’t be angry… Do you still want to choose your outfit for today?” 

I barely glanced at the cloakroom. Half of Janet’s clothes were still inside. 

She wanted a divorce, but she hadn’t even taken her things. 

I sneered. 

She wasn’t serious. She was playing a game. 

I forced my temper down. “Just wear whatever she said.” 

She nodded, rushed out without another word. 

I stood there, breathing heavily, my hands trembling slightly, Janet was really pulling some nerves. She truly thinks I will buy all her attitude? 

A bitter chuckle escaped my lips. 

“That’s the funniest joke I’ve ever heard,” I muttered. Pulling divorce up and down won’t make me give all this attention she’s looking for. She’s fooling herself if she thinks she can survive without me. 

I ran a hand through my hair, letting out a low breath. 

“She thinks can make it with me.” I scoffed. As I stared at the divorce paper in my hand. 

“Dirvoce” I chuckled. “Let’s see how that works out for you, Janet”. 

Just then, my phone rang. 

I glanced at the screen. 

Flora. 

Her voice came through, soft and hesitant. 

“Rowan, I’m really sorry to bother you… I just-I want to feel better, you know? Try looking for a job again. But none of my friends are free, and I was wondering… could you come with me to the mall? Help me pick out some clothes?” 

I sighed quietly, pressing my fingers to my temple. I tried to keep my tone gentle. 

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“Flora, I’m not exactly an expert in women’s fashion…” 

But then I heard her sniffle, a quiet sob catching in her throat. 

I softened my voice. “Hey, hey, don’t cry. Look, how about this-I’ll call my cousin Claire, okay? She’s way 

better at this than I am. I’m sure she’d love to go with you.” 

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