After saying that, he left in a hurry, unaware of the cold smile curling at my mouth.
I wasn't angry, but eerily calm. Countless thoughts swirled in my mind as I pulled out my phone and called Assistant Lenon.
"Send that billion-dollar contract to the Lane Group as my dowry," I said. "Let it be my wedding gift."
The Lane Group had always been Weston's greatest rival. Without my adoptive father's covert support over the years, Weston's company would've been devoured long ago. Now, I would cut off his last escape.
Over the next few days, Weston returned often, practically glued to my side. However, I ignored him like air.
On the day I was discharged, he personally drove me home. The villa looked newly redecorated;
I frowned as we stepped inside. Suddenly Patricia appeared from the bedroom—wearing my pajamas.
"Denise, Patricia is pregnant. I was worried about her living alone, so I brought her here. You won't be angry, right?" Weston asked cautiously.
Patricia cowered behind him like a frightened rabbit. "Sister, please don't kick me out."
Watching them exchange those small, intimate glances made my skin crawl.
Expressionless, I nodded then went to my room and started packing.