Chapter 93
Frederick’s tone remained utterly unfazed.
“As long as you come back, none of this has to happen p>
Maeve was trembling with sheer rage. “Frederick, you are crossing a line p>
“Am I crossing a line, or are you?” Frederick fired back, his voice suddenly sharp and aggressive.
“Maeve, the media had a field day when you bolted from the airport. They’ve been swarming Zoe’s hospital room. She’s delicate, and the stress is severely affecting her health. Since you are still Mrs. Fairchild, get back here and do some damage control p>
Maeve let out a dry, bitter laugh. When Frederick had first chased after her, she had foolishly thought there might be a sliver of lingering affection between them.
He had practically thrown himself into the fire to retrieve her ring, baring his guilt over Felix’s death. She had believed, for a fleeting moment, that he still cared about their marriage.
But in reality, every single thing he did was for Zoe.
When his attempts to manipulate her with guilt failed, he resorted to blackmailing her mother’s career.
After five years of marriage, she had never felt so violently disgusted by the man she had once loved so deeply.
When she remained silent, Frederick’s patience snapped. He delivered his final ultimatum.
“If you want to keep being stubborn, Maeve, this is only the beginning. I expect to see you at Wisteria Cove by six o’clock tomorrow evening p>
With a sharp beep, the line went dead.
Maeve stood frozen on the rooftop, her phone still gripped tightly in her hand.
It was a glaring August day, and the incoming breeze carried waves of stifling heat.
Yet she felt ice-cold, unable to register even a fraction of the summer warmth.
Remembering Frederick’s comment about the media twisting her airport departure, Maeve opened her browser and searched the Capital’s local entertainment news.
Typing in the Fairchild name alone pulled up an endless stream of articles.
The most recent ones were tagged with a blazing red ‘Trending’ icon.
Maeve clicked on the first link and slowly scrolled down.
The situation was far worse than Frederick had described.
Between Frederick purchasing a multimillion-dollar necklace for Zoe, his aggressive public search for his runaway wife, photos of Maeve hiding out in a Silveridge hospital with her mother, and paparazzi snapping Frederick staying by Zoe’s hospital bedside—the narrative practically wrote itself.
The media had woven these events into a massive, scandalous exposé about their impending divorce.
The Fairchild Corporation’s stock was plummeting, and shareholders were already panicking.
No wonder p>
No wonder Frederick was so desperate to drag her back.
But why should she and her family pay the price for his shameless infidelity?
An intense, blinding anger flared in Maeve’s chest. She dug her nails into her palms, forcing herself to breathe and stay rational.
Her mother’s blocked promotion was already a reality.
Right now, Frederick was the desperate one. She didn’t have to go rushing to his rescue.
She would stall. Once Frederick was truly backed into a corner, he would inevitably come to her.
When that happened, she could use the leverage to force him into a divorce. She refused to be his helpless pawn forever.
The next day.
Maeve logged into her online perfumery exam.
Vivian had invited her friend over to supervise and assist.
The process went flawlessly. Maeve passed the exam with a perfeet score meaning all she had to do now was wait for the certification board to mail her official credentials.
With the perfumer’s certificate secured, her next step was figuring out whether to open her wp boutique or work for an established brand to build her portfolio.
Yesterday, Jonathan Giles had sent a few more potential clients her way.
She had already ordered professional mixing tools online, and she planned to start fulfilling orders the moment they arrived.
Everything was finally moving in the right direction.
Soon, the clock struck six. The deadline Frederick had issued came and went.
When nothing catastrophic happened, Maeve let out a quiet sigh of relief.
Glancing out the window, she noticed the sky turning a bruised, ominous gray. A torrential downpour was imminent. Worried about Marcus, who was still at the lumber yard, she turned to Vivian, only to see her mother grabbing an umbrella by the door.
She walked over. “Mom, are you taking that to Dad p>