Chapter 2

Sinclair's POV 

“Sinclair, I can't watch you treat me like I'm worthless or…a burden. I'm in pain…don't you see? Let me go,” Rose cries, following behind me as I storm out of the kitchen up to our Master bedroom.

Rose. That's what I call her. 

I've never called her the name to her hearing, so she doesn't get the wrong signals. She's very beautiful and tempting, I have no intentions of falling in love with her and I'm more focused on not defaulting on my contract with her father. And I'm very cautious of her antics to get me to hopelessly fall in love with her.

She always pretends to love me, but I remind myself of who her father is, the most dangerous businessman in California. Her father may be plotting something behind my back and the best person to use in carrying out his plot is his daughter.

But now she is asking for a Divorce I can't help but wonder what she and her father may be up to now. We had an agreement that I can't divorce her till he gets his heir, how come she's asking for a Divorce?

Is Jonathan looking for a way to make me fall into his trap? I did my research about him, I knew what I was getting into, but I have been very cautious.

“I told you I can't give you what you want!” I thundered, turning around in a swift motion to face her and my eyes land on those soft pink lips and I quickly avert my gaze.

“Fucking hell,” I cursed under my breath, exasperated.

“Sinclair, if you're not going to let me go in peace, I'll leave your life without notice,” she threatened.

“You won't dare!” I sneered.

The amount of confidence that she was speaking with today cut me off guard and I'm starting to feel she has been pretending all these years.

She never spoke with such an unfriendly tone ever since we started living together, she never talked back at me. She never stood in front of me with such defiance, much more to threaten me. I know this is her father's plot and I'm not letting him get whatever he wants out of me.

“So what do you want me to do? Stand and watch you hang out with top models and whores every day? When me,” she pointed at herself, “Your wife doesn't get as much attention?” The word “Whore” coming from her mouth sounded foreign and forbidden.

Those tears that glistened in her eyes tugged at my heartstrings but I had to remind myself that it was just an act, what her father must've told her to do.

I clench and unclench my fists.

“What do you expect? When you moved out of the Master bedroom and told me you're never having sex with me, what did you expect me to do? To stay sex-starved?” I retorted.

“You were treating me like a disease after I lost our baby, what were you expecting? The emotional torture got worse, what more could I have done?” 

“You should have talked to me about it,” I countered.

“How? Where? You never come home early, you leave first thing in the morning and I don't get to see your face if I don't wake up early, that's not even the case because even if I talked to you about it you wouldn't have changed, You've always been like this.” 

Realizing there's no need to beat around the bush I had to say the truth, “How did you expect things to be when you lost our baby?” 

“Was it my fault? Why are you saying it like I didn't do it on purpose!” The hurt in her tone was palpable.

“What do you want me to think? You knew you were heavily pregnant and still insisted on cooking. I pay maids for that job but you told them to take off, Why? You never told me the reason.” I situated both hands on my hips.

“I wanted to prepare something special for you! It was our anniversary!” The tears she had been holding back fell from her eyes to her freckled cheeks and down to her breasts, my eyes trailed it absentmindedly and when I realized what I was doing I looked away.

The atmosphere gets thick with tension.

“I've had enough Sinclair. I want a Divorce.” 

“You think I like that I'm stuck in this marriage? you think that I like that I have to endure you every day? Do you think I like seeing your face the moment I step out of the room in the morning? NO! I don't like any of that. And I want out of this marriage more than you do, but I don't have much of a choice, do I?” 

“Why did you marry me in the first place? I thought you loved me?” 

“Loved you?” I scoffed, “Whatever you and your father are plotting, I just want you to pass the message to him that it's not going to work, Try harder,” 

“What do you mean? You're trying to accuse my Dad again? Why do you hate him so much?” 

Her words sent a wave of bitterness and anger through me, I ground my teeth to suppress my anger before I lost control and unleashed it in a way that might hurt her.

“Get out!” I said in a low growl, my nerves on the edge. Ready to explode at the slightest provocation.

She looked taken aback and stood there looking at me, her face reflecting shock and confusion.

“I don't like repeating myself.” I snarled, “Use the fucking door!” I barked and in seconds she disappeared.

I relaxed my muscles.

She's asking me why I hate a man who hitched me with his daughter over a vineyard.

If not for my ailing Grandpa, I wouldn't be doing business with someone like him.

Hours later, Swiveling in my office chair, my mind kept drifting to Rose.

Why does she want to divorce me? 

I may not be the perfect husband, but aside from my contract with her Dad, I don't think I want her out of my life yet.

Her smiles when she's telling you stories even when you're not paying attention, her delicious meals, and her cute face in her sleep. I've not had enough of that yet…..not this again!

I picked up my phone and called the one person that I'd been wanting to call.

“Good morning, Mr Jonathan,” I greeted in the most polite tone I could muster.

“Good morning, Sinclair. To what do I owe this pleasure,” it's funny how this man dares to sound unperturbed when my marriage is having turbulence.

“Your daughter is asking for a Divorce,” I informed him.

“A Divorce!” He exclaimed, sounding clueless but I know this psychopathic motherfucker who cares about only himself.

“Yes,” I replied, keeping my tone casual so he doesn't see through my frustration.

“How is that my damn business? You haven't fulfilled your end of the bargain. If you Divorce her now….You know what you stand to lose,” 

I tighten my fingers around the phone, repressing the urge not to throw it across the office.

I disconnected the call.

I thought he was the one who told Roseline to Divorce me, but after speaking with him I just remembered how much he wanted that baby boy he never had.

Maybe I've hurt Roseline much more than I intended to and she can't keep up the act anymore.

When I enter the living room, Roseline isn't seated in the chair where she normally sits watching the fireplace whenever I get home by this time.

The maid strolls out of the house and I check my watch. It's past seven. My maid doesn't stay until now.

“Welcome, Sir,” she greeted through smiles.

“Where's Roseline?” 

“She left since morning and hasn't come back since,” 

“What?!” My eyes alm

ost pop out.

The maid takes a couple of steps back.

“I…I th.. thought you knew where she was?” She stuttered.