Beyond the Divorce



This must be David's bedroom. A wooden board divided the interior.

In front of the board, there was a set of redwood tables and chairs, with three seats on each side.

David, who was wearing a white suit, was sitting on the main redwood armchair.

As we approached him, I could see that although he was thin, he didn't seem frail, which contradicted the news we had heard on the phone, that he had been gravely ill.

Atlas's expression was cold, indicating that he had anticipated this.

However, I felt unsettled. They had claimed he was critically ill, but everything seemed fine. What was the point of that deception? Why was Celine so eager for us to return? What was her motive?

Thankfully, Atlas remained composed, indicating he had anticipated this.

But that woman had said things weren't looking good when he called her. I had clearly heard her, and I knew she wasn't our nanny.

David was the first to speak, setting down his teacup and looking at us as we approached.

"If it weren't for the 'critical illness' ruse, I wouldn't have had the chance to see you." His tone was calm, but it sounded like he was reproaching us. His words confirmed that he wasn't really ill.

And it was clear that Celine knew about this, and had participated in this deception.

It seemed that even now, David could still be influenced by Celine. This made me lose any trace of respect I had for him as an elder of the Pierce family.Content bel0ngs to Nôvel(D)r/a/ma.Org.

I wondered if it was him or Celine who wanted to see us.

"There's no need to say that, Grandpa. You know very well that you probably wouldn't have told me if you were really critically ill." Atlas's tone was

severe.

David didn't get angry at Atlas's words and remained calm. "Don't forget, you're my only grandson."

This time, Atlas didn't say anything.

David's gaze shifted from Atlas to me, and there was a dim and unclear light in his eyes as he stared for a few seconds before softly saying, "Please, take a seat."

Atlas gestured to me, and we sat together on the chairs beside him.

I carefully examined David as I sat down. Despite his age and frail appearance, I could still see traces of his former elegance.

He must have been remarkable

when he was younger. All the men of

the Pierce family were handsome,

and even this old man, who was

nearly 90 years old, exuded a sense of dignity and mystery.

His eyes were sharp, showing vitality and spirit, indicating that he was in excellent health.

However, his gaze on me was very indifferent, and tinged with a hint of disdain.

I reined in the awe I had been feeling.

"Are you married?" David asked.

"Yes," Atlas answered firmly.

"Do you really not think of me as your grandpa?" David looked at Atlas.

"And do you really think of me as your grandson?" Atlas met David's gaze squarely, asking the question without any deference. David just stared at Atlas for a moment.

"Atlas," David snorted. "You haven't set foot in this place for years, have you?"

"You're in good health, and you seem to be enjoying your life, so I didn't want to disturb you." Atlas's reply was straightforward.

It was widely known that David never left his mansion, even when his grandson was in danger. He lived a secluded life without interference from the outside world. I really didn't know why he was trying to blame someone else for this.

There was a moment of silence in the room, but the atmosphere was far from harmonious.

The old man who had welcomed us quickly entered and softly said, "Mr. David, Ms. Celine is here."

"Tell her to wait in the side hall," David said calmly.

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After the old man left, David stared at me for a few seconds before saying to Atlas, "Ask her to leave." have something to discuss with you."

My heart tightened, and I wondered what the old man was up to.

Atlas hesitated for a moment, then turned his head and gently said, "Wait outside."

"Okay," I responded as I stood up. I left without saying anything to David.

I walked out of the room and couldn't help but let out a sigh of relief.

But as I stepped out, I saw the person I least wanted to see at the door.