CHAPTER 17: CHAPTER 17: VERA SHERIDAN QUIETLY PREPARES TO FILE FOR DIVORCE

Ian Kane lowered his eyes briefly and said with a faint smile, "The client from the department is on the fifth floor taking a bath. I left my watch in the locker and had Jonah Langdon go get it for me."

Vera Sheridan tightly clutched the watch in her pocket, the metal edges pressing painfully against her palm, her heart growing colder and colder.

Ian Kane raised the back of his hand to her forehead, "Honey, are you feeling unwell? Or are you overthinking again?"

His warm tone was full of concern and affection.

"Ian Kane, I’m tired." Her words were double-edged as she leaned back into her chair, arms crossed, and closed her eyes.

Ian Kane furrowed his eyebrows tightly, "You again—"

He swallowed the words that were on the tip of his tongue, as if restraining something, and then leaned forward to raise the car’s temperature, also draping a blanket over her.

The car fell into silence.

Ian Kane crossed his long legs, leaning against the back of his seat, his long fingers tapping his knee sporadically.

Occasionally, he would glance sideways at Vera Sheridan.

The dim overhead light illuminated her pale, thin face, her brows slightly furrowed, hinting at unease and fragments of distress.

The man’s dark eyes softened.

Vera Sheridan vaguely sensed his gaze and gently turned her face away, just as his phone began to vibrate.

"Kane, I got your watch, mind lending it to me for a couple of days? There are only a few of these in Ardendale!"

Even though Ian Kane didn’t have the speakerphone on, Vera Sheridan could clearly hear Jonah Langdon’s voice.

To her, it seemed Ian Kane was putting on an act with Jonah Langdon.

Ian Kane lowered his voice, "Keep it down, your sister-in-law is resting."

"Bring it to me now."

Vera Sheridan’s mouth twitched slightly. He really was skilled, finding a multi-million dollar counterfeit watch so quickly.

Back home, she went straight to her bedroom to rest.

As soon as she opened the closet, a black lace camisole nightgown caught her eye, as if delivering a ruthless slap to her face.

In front of her were images of Nina Sullivan, her father’s mistress, their seductive forms, and her own numerous attempts to wear this nightgown...

With a "snap," Vera Sheridan shut the closet door.

Turning around, she caught sight of her plain, cold, and somewhat injured reflection in the mirror.

She remembered her mother-in-law’s earlier complaints to Maeve behind her back: "Ian is infatuated with her; it’s the allure of the unattainable. Looking like that and still playing hard to get, what man could resist?"

Back then, she had confidently retorted in her heart: He’s different.

Ian Kane is different.

He not only loved her, he understood her, they shared the same pains, they were soulmates.

Yet now...

Vera Sheridan felt a lump in her throat.

Two clear tears slid down her cheeks, cold and sharp as they reached her neck.

After some time, Vera Sheridan calmed down.

She went online to search for divorce procedures.

She needed to extricate herself from this marriage she shouldn’t have entered to begin with, cutting her losses in time.

Considering that Ian Kane was still scheming to hide his infidelity and was not likely to let go easily, the fastest way to divorce would be to file for it.

She would need to bring her marriage certificate, household registration, and other related documents to find a divorce lawyer to handle the case for her.

Vera Sheridan, hobbling on her right foot, climbed up to the third floor step by step, heading to the study at the end of the corridor to look for the marriage certificate.

On the day they registered, Ian Kane had taken her hot-off-the-press marriage certificate, placing both theirs into his jacket’s inner pocket, close to his heart.

He said he would keep it for her.

So she’d have it when they quarreled about divorce after any disagreement.

Vera Sheridan searched every nook of the study - the safe, the drawers - but found nothing.

Finally, she focused on one locked drawer on the desk for which she couldn’t find a key.

All the other drawers had keys, except for this one.

She guessed that the marriage certificate was locked inside.

After Ian Kane finished his shower, he looked around and found Vera Sheridan in the study.

She stood by the desk, seemingly staring at that drawer.

Ian Kane rapped gently on the door with the back of his hand, and when Vera Sheridan turned to look, he walked into the study, a pampering smile on his lips, "Mrs. Kane, are you looking for something?"

Vera Sheridan blurted out, "The marriage certificate."

Ian Kane raised an eyebrow, approaching her, his tall figure casting a shadow, "What do you need the marriage certificate for?"

To divorce you.

The words rolled around in Vera Sheridan’s throat but were swallowed back.

She put on a nonchalant front, "Just suddenly wanted to see it."

"I only got a glance at it when you put it away back then. Is it in this drawer?" As she spoke, she subtly moved away from his touch, turning to look at the desk, pointing to the drawer in question.

Ian Kane’s eyes deepened, recalling the past, his lips curving, "Yes."

Vera Sheridan, "Where’s the key?"

The man wore a proud expression, "Flushed down the toilet."

Vera Sheridan: ...

Meeting her puzzled gaze, Ian Kane cupped the back of her head, his voice low and magnetic, "I was afraid of losing it."

Vera Sheridan’s heart trembled.

With the key discarded, their marriage certificate would be forever locked in this drawer.

Never lost.

It sounded ridiculously childish.

Not something a ruthless, scheming business tycoon would do.

But seeing the starlight in his black eyes, the deep affection, Vera Sheridan knew he wasn’t lying, and that it was something he would indeed do.

The movie ticket stubs for films they’d seen together, every single text message she sent him, he kept them all. How could he not care about their marriage certificate?

Yet, those were things of the past.

People change.

Vera Sheridan snapped back to reality, "Then forget about it."

Locking it away was pointless; she could go to the civil affairs bureau and get it reissued, or have proof issued.

She turned to leave, but Ian Kane grabbed her wrist, pulling out a watch from his robe pocket, "Jonah Langdon brought it over."

Vera Sheridan looked at the identical watch, no longer fooled, "Okay, as long as it wasn’t lost, I was just curious."

She tried to leave, but Ian Kane pulled her back once more, his hands on her shoulders, gazing at her intently, "You’re overthinking again."

Vera Sheridan avoided his eyes that had followed her devotedly for almost seven years, images of Nina Sullivan flashing in her mind, her heart aching as if pricked by needles, she broke away, "No, I’m going back to my room to rest."

Ian Kane followed her out, his phone vibrating, and he answered.

"Whose watch is lost, and what does that have to do with me? Why are you calling me?" His tone was irritated, tinged with the arrogance of someone of high status.

Upon hearing that, Vera Sheridan paused in her tracks, while her phone also rang.

It was a call from the clubhouse’s customer service, helping a guest find a lost watch.

Vera Sheridan’s eyes shifted, suspecting that Ian Kane was deliberately staging a ruse to deceive her, making her think the man in Nina Sullivan’s suite was someone else.

Standing outside the study, she lowered her voice and deliberately asked, "What’s the name of that guest?"

Generally, clubs wouldn’t disclose guests’ names.

If they mentioned the name, it would certainly be a smokescreen crafted by Ian Kane.