She had no idea what the future held, but she knew she needed to make a plan.
Annabelle returned to the bedroom, her mind elsewhere, only to see Leona Grant just coming out of the bathroom.
'I can't believe he's home!'
He usually didn't even come home once a month, so seeing him now was certainly a surprise.
Leona Grant was casually rubbing a towel through his dripping hair, his bangs falling artlessly over his eyes.
Under the light, a faint shadow fell across his profile, accentuating his deep, chiseled features. His bathrobe hung loosely open, and droplets of water trickled down his chest, a sight both sexy and alluring.
Leona Grant looked up, his gaze unfocused as it landed on Annabelle Linton. As soon as he recognized her, his expression shifted to one of familiar disgust.
Without giving her another glance, he walked to the wardrobe to get his pajamas.
In her past life, the sight would have made Annabelle blush beet-red, but the Annabelle of today merely gave him an indifferent glance before looking away.
She had seen his dismissive attitude, but she didn't care.
As Leona Grant walked to the door, pajamas in hand, Annabelle said calmly, "Leona Grant, we need to talk."
Leona Grant stopped and said coldly, "Sorry. Not interested."
Seeing that he was about to leave, Annabelle sat down unhurriedly on the edge of the bed. "What if the topic is our divorce? Something you've been dying for. Still not interested?"
Leona Grant froze. He turned around and stared at her, his gaze unwavering.
Annabelle met his gaze, her own eyes devoid of any emotion.
They stared at each other for a moment before Leona Grant abruptly tossed the pajamas onto the bed.
Leaning against the doorframe, he let out a cold smirk. "What, feeling aggrieved because you were wrongly accused today? Annabelle Linton, when I married you, I made it perfectly clear that I would never love you, much less be good to you. Pulling stunts like suicide or playing hard to get—did you really think I couldn't see through it?"
Annabelle watched him, her face impassive, waiting for him to continue.
Leona Grant said sarcastically, "If you want to die, no one's stopping you. Jump off a building, throw yourself into the sea, slit your wrists, get hit by a car—take your pick. So why choose pills? You're a doctor. You of all people should know what dose is actually lethal, right?"
'He thought I was playing hard to get?'
"My parents are coming back in a few days, and now you pull a stunt like this. Are you trying to tell them that Vivian bullied you? Annabelle Linton, don't think I don't know what you're scheming!"
"The Linton family of today is a far cry from what it once was. Do you still think you're that envied Miss Linton that everyone looked up to? Do you really think anyone cares if you live or die now?"
Hearing this, Annabelle felt no surge of negative emotion. Her lips merely twitched. "Leona Grant, what on earth gave you the confidence to think that Vivian Yates matters so much to me that I'd be willing to risk my own life just to frame her?"
She slowly rose to her feet and walked right up to him, her expression thick with sarcasm. "Don't flatter yourself into thinking every woman on earth is dying to be involved with you! Let me be perfectly honest: I despise you. I hate you. Every second I spend with you is torture. Even the air I have to breathe in the same room as you feels contaminated. So, I can't stand this for one more day. I want a divorce!"
Suddenly, his fingers clamped around her jaw. A boundless danger emanated from Leona Grant's deep-set eyes. He gripped her delicate chin and forcefully tilted it upward, forcing her to meet his gaze.