CHAPTER 51: CHAPTER 51: SEE YOU AT THE CIVIL AFFAIRS BUREAU TOMORROW AT NINE

Victoria Monroe is a very rational person; she hasn’t let love cloud her judgment. Every decision she makes has the courage of burning the boats.

When she first retired to become his wife from behind the scenes, and now, when she leaves, she intends to take her rightful property with her, refusing to make any concessions.

The reason she had Dominic Scott come over at this time wasn’t because she wanted to take revenge on Julian Fordham for nearly dying last night.

It was because she knew that at this critical moment, Julian Fordham was at his most guilty, and the likelihood of him signing was extremely high.

She no longer wanted to continue this tug-of-war divorce.

The longer the tug-of-war continued, the more affection was expended.

Victoria Monroe thought of many ways to make him let go, but in the end, she didn’t need to use them. Julian Fordham’s concession caught her off guard.

Since it had come to this, she wouldn’t back down anymore, so she took the initiative: "Your career is now flourishing, but back then I gave you all my assets, that’s why you have what you have today. So it’s only fair that I take three-quarters of the assets."

"I know, I have no objections." Julian Fordham didn’t even look at the specific division details she drafted.

Whatever she wanted, he’d give her.

What Julian Fordham couldn’t part with was never the property, but her.

Last night’s events had already nailed him to the pillar of shame, never to be redeemed!

His gaze fell on the signature, and Victoria Monroe had already signed it.

Julian Fordham thought of the day they went to the civil affairs bureau, with no specific day chosen, nor was anything prepared.

On the way there, she kept pulling at her clothes, checking herself in the mirror again and again, asking him, "Does my face look too pale? Should I put on more blush?"

He rubbed her head and said, "No need, anymore and you’ll look like a monkey’s butt."

She tugged at his sleeve, "This is the most important photo of our lives; of course, I want to look beautiful."

While filling out the marriage application, she lowered her head and wrote each word with such seriousness.

The handwriting on the divorce agreement was decisive and swift without any hesitation.

Julian Fordham looked at Victoria Monroe. She was sitting by the bed, not looking at him, just staring at the snowflakes swirling outside, lost in thought.

Perhaps she was reminiscing about the path they’d walked; in one’s life, how many eighteen years are there?

At eight years old, Julian Fordham’s mother moved with him and Autumn Fordham to the slums.

It was said his family had been well-off, but his father had committed suicide after going bankrupt and leaving a mountain of debt, leaving behind orphans and widows.

She wore a patched floral shirt, hiding behind the cherry blossom tree and observing the new neighbors.

He was wearing his old clothes, like an aristocratic young master. Feeling her gaze, he looked up at her.

Victoria Monroe met that indifferent yet exquisite face, marveling at how such a young master could move to their kind of refugee camp?

He was like a snow lotus on a mountain, meant to grow freely on an unpopulated peak.

He shouldn’t be like her, the muddy earth always stepped on by others.

Her eyes met his and she fled in fright.

From that day on, she often paid attention to that beautiful young man. She took the candy she had hidden in a jar for half a year, wanting to give it to him as a meeting gift.

Thinking about how neatly he dressed, he probably wouldn’t want to talk to her, would he?

She had seen it; he always treated the kids in the alley coldly. He carried a natural air of arrogance, and no one dared to provoke him.

But that day, when the local bully and his lackeys pushed her to the ground, the candy rolled out.

The bully wanted to snatch it away, but Victoria Monroe clutched the candy tightly in her hand, getting kicked a few times, her body covered in mud.

"Stop."

She looked up and saw the young man standing in front of her, chasing away those ruffians bullying her.

He reached his hand out to her, his voice cold but with a hint of concern, "Are you okay?"

Victoria Monroe’s grimy little face looked at him for a while, her big eyes blinking, "I’m fine. This is for you."

Julian Fordham was taken aback, then saw the little girl with a pointy chin, opening her muddy palm to reveal a clean candy.

Under her ardent gaze, he unwrapped the candy and placed the fruit candy, deformed from heat, into his mouth.

"Is it sweet?"

There was actually a bit of sourness to it, but beneath that sour coating was the sweet taste of peach.

He normally didn’t like eating candy.

But that candy’s taste stayed forever in his memory.

He nodded, "Sweet."

The little girl sprang up from the ground with a smile, "Of course it’s sweet. I saved it for half a year and couldn’t bring myself to eat it. By the way, my name is Victoria Monroe, Victoria as in the evening glow, Monroe as in the stream, what’s yours?"

He had never seen such a warm smile, like the most beautiful flower blooming on barren land, dazzling and captivating.

The aloof him made his first friend after moving, and he replied, "Julian Fordham."

Julian Fordham hesitated momentarily and then signed his name.

Seeing him cooperate in signing, Victoria Monroe said, "Tomorrow at nine in the morning, let’s meet at the civil affairs bureau."

"Your health isn’t good, we can wait a few days, I can wait..."

Victoria Monroe interrupted, "I can’t wait, just tomorrow."

Julian Fordham gazed into Victoria Monroe’s determined eyes, his heart aching as if it were bleeding, and he said in a hoarse voice, "Okay, if you need a hospital transfer, I can arrange it. At least we are still family, friends, you can come to me for any difficulties you have."

Victoria Monroe spoke lightly, "Here is fine, no need to trou..."

Julian Fordham, not accustomed to her distance, spoke deeply: "Victoria, do you have any candy?"

Victoria Monroe froze and lowered her eyes, "No more."

She had already given him the best candy of her life.

Seeing the atmosphere between them was not right, Dominic Scott took the initiative to speak, "President Fordham, Ms. Monroe needs rest now. Regarding some stock transfer processes, I’ll go over them with you, let’s talk in detail outside."

Julian Fordham looked at the woman with her shoulders drooped and head down, softly saying, "Take care."

Victoria Monroe glanced from the corner of her eye at his wounded palm, having caught Rhys Hawthorne’s golf club just moments ago. The wound tore open and had not yet clotted, with fresh blood trickling down his fingertips.

Her eyes flickered slightly, but she said nothing, only murmuring in response, "...Okay."

Julian Fordham staggered as he left the hospital room.

The room was left with only Victoria Monroe; she couldn’t hold it anymore, falling onto the bed, clutching the blanket with her fingers, tears silently cascading down.

Rhys Hawthorne stood by the bed, watching the small woman, her shoulders constantly trembling.

He raised his hand, wanting to comfort her, but said nothing.

He took something from his pocket and placed it by her side.

After crying for who knows how long, Victoria Monroe finally stopped sobbing. She propped herself up on the bed, lifting her head, and saw a piece of chocolate beside her.

Clutching the chocolate, she felt it to be somewhat familiar.

When she was seven and a half, she suffered a head injury, forgetting everything from before then.

It’s said that when her mother was leaving, she held onto her mother’s sleeve pleading her not to go, only to be pushed away by her mother, falling and hitting her head on the flower bed by the road.

Through her blurry vision caused by tears, Victoria Monroe saw the man standing by the window at a distance.

He hadn’t left.

Their eyes met, and in his deep dark pupils, there was less indifference and more compassion.

Victoria Monroe’s voice was hoarse, "Rhys, haven’t we met somewhere before?"