Chapter 7

By the time Quinley returned home, it was already past midnight. On the coffee table in the living room sat a cake with its candles blown out. Gary was on the couch with Luna, helping her unwrap gifts. Seeing Quinley soaked to the bone, Gary abruptly stopped what he was doing. "Quinn, you… Didn't I send someone to pick you up?" He frowned and quickly stood up. He then grabbed a towel, intending to dry Quinley's hair. But Quinley only stared at him coldly, eyes sharp and unflinching. Without hesitation, she raised her hand to slap him. In that same instant, a figure rushed in and shielded Gary. The slap landed on Luna's cheek harshly, creating a crisp sound. Luna gasped and covered her face. "Ah!" A red handprint quickly bloomed across her cheek. She slumped into Gary's arms, tearful and fragile. "Luna, are you okay?" Gary clutched her tightly, his fingers trembling as he touched the side of her face. When his fingertips brushed over the swelling that was rapidly forming, rage surged within him. He raised his hand, snapping the towel away. "Quinley! You've lost your mind!" The towel lashed across Quinley's forehead like a sharp wind, completely messing up her wet curls. Her body almost gave out. "Gary, I misjudged you." She held back her tears, her whisper laced with mockery. "You'd give me away to someone else for a meaningless ring. You're disgusting." Gary froze, his expression wavering with guilt. But then Luna reached out and stood in front of him, her voice choked. "I won't let you talk to Gary like that. If you're angry and want to hit someone, take it out on me!" It was a perfect act of undying devotion. The flicker of guilt in Gary's eyes instantly disappeared. He scooped Luna into his arms, uttering, "Be good, Luna. Let me handle this." Then, he turned to look at Quinley coldly. "Those photos usually go to auction in six months. When the time comes, I'll buy them, even if it costs billions. But Quinley, you should've never laid a hand on Luna no matter what!" Six months? Quinley would be gone by then. She curled her lips indifferently as Gary went upstairs while saying, "Unless you're hoping to spend the night in custody for assault, you better get outside and kneel in the yard right now!" Past midnight, the rain started falling. Private doctors' cars pulled into the estate one after another. Under the sudden glare of headlights in the dark, Quinley knelt motionless in the rain, flanked by several bodyguards. Two hours later, two overlapping figures appeared on the balcony of the master bedroom. They were looking down. "Gary, poor Quinn." Luna's voice was sweet but carried the mocking tone of a victor. "My face is injured. We'll have to postpone my birthday party by a few days. Why don't we invite Quinn, too? I don't think she's seen the yacht you gave me yet." "Alright. We'll go with what you plan. I'm sorry for not protecting you well." Their over-the-top display of affection shattered the last of Quinley's composure. The Gary who once cared about her was dead to her. Quinley clenched her fists tightly. "The yacht, huh? Perfect. That's where it'll all end," Quinley mused. Kneeling in the rain left a ring of bruises on Quinley's knees. Even two days later, it still hurt when she walked. However, she still limped all the way to the county clerk's office to pick up two divorce certificates. When she returned to the estate, the bodyguards' car was already waiting at the entrance. "Mrs. White, Mr. White wants you to attend Ms. Scott's birthday party." Quinley placed one of the divorce certificates on the bed in the master bedroom, then dug out the wedding ring she hadn't worn in a long time and followed the bodyguards to the party. On the deck of the luxury yacht, piles of gifts were stacked up like a small mountain. The champagne tower sparkled under the lights. Smartly dressed servers moved through the crowd. "Mr. White, you're way too protective! Every time the bottle lands on Luna, you won't even let her take a sip!" At the long table, a group of young elites from their social circle were playing a bottle-spinning game with Luna. Just as Quinley arrived, the spinning bottle came to a perfect stop. It was pointing directly at her. Someone let out a snicker. "Well, would you look at that? Whoever the bottle lands on has to take the punishment!"