Patrick Jordan was taken aback by her words. Divorce? Was Noelle actually serious?
He frowned, disbelief plastered across his face. "Noelle, what kind of game are you playing now?"
Noelle met his gaze with unsettling calm, void of any love or anger. "I'm serious, Patrick."
"Seriously?" Patrick let out a mocking laugh. "You schemed with the Carrolls and the Palmers to bring the Jordan Group to its knees just so you could marry me? Borrowed money—sure, the Jordan Group is nearly back on its feet—and even though I never liked you, I've treated you like royalty. And now you're asking for a divorce?"
A bitter smile tugged at Noelle's lips. Once, she would never have dreamed of divorce.
"Patrick, believe it or not, I didn't orchestrate the downfall of your company."
In their past life, it had been the same—his conviction that she'd married him for ulterior motives clouded his judgment. How else to explain that only the Kelley family had the funds when it mattered? The truth was, Noelle's grandfather had simply prepared wisely, keeping the Kelley Group's finances strong. But no matter what she said, Patrick never believed her.
A billion dollars could buy anyone's loyalty, yet lending it to Patrick had bought her nothing but an unpaid debt.
Back then, Noelle had naively believed in the power of persistence. But a heartless man would never warm, no matter how much care she poured into him. She would never win the heart of a man whose affections were parked elsewhere.
At this point, she was still healthy—free from cancer, untouched by the stress Patrick and Charley Jenkins had dragged her through. Having once suffered a fate worse than death, this time she was determined not to repeat the same mistakes.
Patrick scoffed at her reasoning. In business, it was simple: follow the money to find the mastermind.
After everything, neither the Carrolls nor the Palmers gained any real benefit; the only one who truly profited was Noelle. If it wasn't her, then who could it be?
Explanations were pointless—and unnecessary.
Noelle glanced around the room, silently bidding farewell to the house she'd called home for years. Then, with quiet resolve, she declared, "I've had enough of being Mrs. Jordan. I'm leaving! If you think the Jordan Group has rebounded, then repay the loan and file for divorce. Seriously!"
Patrick snorted. He still didn't buy that Noelle meant to leave for good. Did she think he was bluffing about the company's recovery? A billion dollars was a lot, sure, but repaying the Kelley family was doable.
Slamming the door behind him, Patrick stormed out…
Noelle called Uncle Henry, the Kelley family chauffeur, asking him to pick her up from the Jordan residence. Hearing his familiar voice brought tears of relief to her eyes. In her previous life, after the Kelley family fell, Patrick had forbidden anyone in town from helping anyone associated with the Kelleys. Soon after, Noelle lost contact with Uncle Henry.
Later, when Noelle was diagnosed with cancer and visited her grandfather's grave, she saw Uncle Henry—dragging a half-lame leg—laying flowers on her grandfather's plot. After the family's decline, Henry struggled to find work until Charley vouched for him, letting him haul props for a film crew. That day, heavy rain made the roads slick. Even when it meant breaking traffic laws, the crew insisted Henry deliver the props on time—leading to the accident.
Afterwards, his amputation left him without a livelihood. Remembering all that hardship, Noelle couldn't help but feel a deep pang of gratitude for the chance to ride in a car driven by Uncle Henry once more.
Mrs. Smith, the Jordan family's housekeeper, spotted Noelle dragging her suitcase down the stairs and hurried over to ask, "Ma'am, are you heading out?"
Noelle replied coolly, "I'm going back to the Kelleys."
Mrs. Smith had always been kind to Noelle, though her loyalty ultimately lay with Patrick. She asked, concern lacing her voice, "Does Mr. Jordan know?"
She had just seen Patrick storm off in a huff. Could the couple have quarreled again?
"He knows."
Mrs. Smith helped Noelle with her suitcase and guided her toward the car. "Couples have spats, ma'am. Don't take it too hard. Come back soon."
Noelle wouldn't be returning. "This isn't a small quarrel; we've always had problems. This marriage itself was a huge mistake."
Facing illness and the threat of death had taught her the value of letting go. From now on, she wouldn't cling to Patrick Jordan.
She believed there were many ways to live this life.
Mrs. Smith pressed on, "Mr. Jordan is just being prideful—don't let it get to you."
Noelle's lips curved slightly, but she said nothing more.
It wasn't just pride—in her past life, she had loved him with everything she had. This time, she wouldn't let anyone trample her heart again!
Mrs. Smith watched the car disappear down the road, an uneasy feeling settling in her chest. Would the lady of the house really not come back?
*
The next morning, Patrick received a divorce agreement from the Kelleys' legal team.
Ha—
This woman was impulsive. The Jordan Group did have the liquid assets to repay a billion dollars. But they had a larger project underway that needed initial funding, and he didn't want to dip into those reserves.
He tossed the agreement aside without noticing that Noelle had already signed it—including a note. To expedite the divorce, Noelle suggested they finalize it before settling the debt, and stated she'd be at the courthouse at 10 AM to meet him.
The next morning, Noelle arrived at the district courthouse precisely at ten. She sat on the cold wooden bench outside the clerk's office, the signed paperwork resting on her lap.
Eleven o'clock came and went. She dialed Patrick's number three times, only to be sent straight to voicemail. When she opened her messaging app, a red exclamation point confirmed he had blocked her entirely.
He was playing the same petty game he always did.
Tucking the folder under her arm, Noelle walked out into the midday glare and slipped into the back of the car. "Uncle Henry," she said coldly, "drive me to the Jordan Group."
