Seeing how easy it was for him, Sydney let out a bitter smile.
‘So this is what it means when he loves someone—meetings can be interrupted, documents can be signed without a glance,’ she thought.
She had once foolishly thought he loved her. ‘Damn, that’s hilarious,’ she thought to herself.
Savannah handed the signed divorce papers back to Sydney. “Here. Don’t pester him again.”
Sydney took them and went straight to the clerk’s office.
She glanced outside; rain had started, cold and fine, whipping through the wind. She wrapped her coat tighter around herself, still shivering.
When she stepped back into the villa, she saw Preston and Savannah on the couch, entwined in intimacy.
Sydney turned a blind eye and headed upstairs.
But Savannah wasn’t done with her.
“Hey, Sydney. You grew up in the countryside, didn’t you? You must be good at cooking, right? I haven’t had much of an appetite lately. I want some soup made by you.”
Sydney’s face remained blank. “I’m not your maid,” she replied flatly.
Savannah pouted and whined at Preston. “Preston, I just want some soup. But she won’t even make it for me. Is she still mad that we let Loki stay in Julien’s room?”