Chapter 2 Unfortunately, She Doesn't Love Him

His warning felt like a series of needles, ruthlessly piercing her heart.

"You might as well think I'm making a fuss over nothing," Molly Walker said, suddenly laughing. "I'll find the evidence."

Not wanting to stay for another second, she steadied herself and staggered away.

Once she left, Michael Gallagher quietly explained to Isabelle Richardson, "Her grandma meant a lot to her. Don't take her harsh words to heart."

Isabelle shook her head, biting her lip in grief. "I always thought she was a gentle person. I didn't expect her to harbor such hostility toward me."

"So, Michael, do your previous words still hold true?"

Michael Gallagher remained silent.

"Isn't she discussing divorce with you?" Isabelle asked carefully. "She seems very fragile right now. She probably needs a lover by her side."

Michael's lips pressed tightly together as he thought about Molly's reasons for wanting a divorce, his fist clenching tighter and tighter.

A lover? It was a shame her lover was not him.

They had been married for three years. He had always controlled himself, but a few days ago, he woke up to find that he had slept with Molly.

Angry at himself for being fooled, Molly had vehemently denied it and even handed him a divorce agreement.

"Michael Gallagher, let's get a divorce."

She had always been obedient, never bringing up divorce before.

"What, do you have someone you like?" he asked, toying with the divorce agreement in his hand, his voice mocking and sarcastic.

Unexpectedly, she admitted it while laughing, "Yes."

"He doesn't mind that you've been married?" he asked again.

"He knows."

"Hm."

He wanted to ask more but didn't know where to start.

After three years, they had spent more time apart than together; he hadn't had the time to get to know her.

She had really found someone she liked. She had hidden that man well. No matter how much he investigated, he couldn't find out who he was.

Since she had found someone she liked, it was time to set her free.

Under Isabelle Richardson's expectant gaze, Michael Gallagher slowly nodded.

After her grandma's funeral, Molly began to process the divorce.

However, Michael Gallagher seemed to have vanished. He wasn't at the villa, his phone was unreachable, and people at the company said he had gone on a business trip and would be back in a week.

That week was the hardest week for Molly.

The news media were broadcasting that Michael Gallagher and Isabelle Richardson were traveling abroad.

In the photos, Isabelle's pretty face was lit up with a happy smile. The man beside her wore sunglasses, his posture upright, exuding an extraordinary aura. They looked like a pair of deeply in-love lovers.

Molly tried to convince herself that they were getting a divorce and that she didn't have to care.

But the thought of him being intimate with the person who had killed her grandma made it impossible for her to sit still.

As soon as Michael Gallagher returned, she was ready. The moment she got wind of his whereabouts, she took the divorce agreement and left.

She and Michael Gallagher had always been married in secret. Everyone thought he was still single.

Isabelle Richardson had exploited this gap to flaunt her love with Michael Gallagher, but Molly was determined to tear off that mask herself.

The Maze Bar, rumored to be the favorite haunt of wealthy heirs for conducting business, was where she intended to confront them.

Seductive women skillfully twisted their waists on the dance floor, while men drank wildly. It was like another world—bizarre and fascinating—where everyone was indulging in their obsessions.

Enduring her discomfort, Molly walked through the noise toward the private room where Michael Gallagher was.

Inside, the music was relentless, and bottles of wine littered the floor.

A few men lounged on the sofa, each with a woman in their arms, all of them blooming like flowers.

Michael Gallagher rested casually on a leather sofa, legs crossed, his expression cold and commanding.

Unlike the other men, the only person by his side was Isabelle Richardson.

"Mr. Gallagher," a man taunted, "isn't it boring to have just one woman? Why not call over a few more girls?"

The man responded with a mischievous smile, his lips curling in a naturally rebellious way.

Michael Gallagher's gaze fell, uninterested in the conversation.

He was here today to discuss business with Joshua Thompson, not to engage in any games involving women.

"Joshua Thompson, I'm still here," Isabelle chimed in coyly. "You dare introduce women to Michael in front of me? Just imagine how much worse it would be when I'm not around!"

She had been sticking close to Michael these past few days, even secretly leaking news of their relationship to the media, eager to make it clear to everyone:

She, Isabelle, was back.

Joshua Thompson whistled casually. "Women are like clothes—what's the point of wearing the same one every day? Besides, you and Michael aren't married yet, so stop acting like Mrs. Gallagher."

He had always been at odds with Isabelle, never mincing his words.

Isabelle, the daughter of the powerful Richardson family, wasn't accustomed to being treated this way.

She blinked her innocent eyes, puffing in anger. "I remember your sister went missing and still hasn't been found. Aren't you afraid she might end up being played by men like these women?"

With a loud bang, Joshua Thompson smashed his wine bottle on the table, shards of glass scattering across the floor.

The entire private room fell silent.

The Thompson family was the wealthiest family in Sunnydale City, wielding influence in both legitimate and underground circles. There was a well-known secret about them: Mrs. Thompson had four children, and the first three were boys. They rejoiced when a girl was finally born, but she was stolen on her hundredth day.

No one expected Isabelle to be bold enough to bring up this matter.

For a moment, the expressions of everyone in the private room varied.

Just then, a commotion erupted outside the door.

"What's the ruckus?" Joshua Thompson, already in a foul mood, got heated up with the noise.

The waiter said hesitantly, "There's a woman outside insisting on seeing Mr. Gallagher."

A woman?

Michael Gallagher squinted, a certain someone flashing across his mind.

Extinguishing the cigarette in his hand, he replied lazily, "Let her in."

Molly Walker heard his voice and gripped the divorce agreement tighter as she stepped inside.

In the dimly lit private room, curious eyes turned toward her.

The enclosed space, thick with the smell of alcohol and perfume, made her stomach churn.

She clenched her teeth against the discomfort and walked forward.

Isabelle, nestled against Michael, looked surprised to see her.

Thoughts of the news about them extinguished any lingering affection Molly had.

Under the crowd's scrutiny, she parted her lips slightly and said sweetly, "Dear husband, so this is where you are!"

Husband?

Mr. Gallagher was married?

Then... Isabelle was a Mistress?

The people present gasped, their eyes darting toward Isabelle.

Her face shifted between shades of green and red.

Now everyone now knew she had interfered in Michael Gallagher's marriage.

Nervously gripping the corner of Michael's shirt, she clung to it as if it were her last hope.

Michael Gallagher regarded Molly with inscrutable eyes, the tension in the room palpable.

The atmosphere became charged.

Who would dare to watch Mr. Gallagher's drama unfold? One by one, the others tactfully made their exit from the private room.

Only Joshua Thompson remained, sitting motionless on the sofa, his gaze fixed on Molly's face, his eyes brimming with excitement.