Instantly, Blaise's eyes darkened.
"Do you have what it cost to divorce me?"
Estelle looked at him. Her eyes seemed to lit up with something… something he had never seen in a long time and it made his heart twitch in anger. "What do you want?"
"Ten times the dowry I paid"
The moment those words rolled out of his mouth, Estelle froze. She looked at him, stunned. She opened her mouth several times to talk, but no words could come out from her mouth.
Ten times the dowry?
She remembered the wedding, how Blaise had emptied his pockets to pay the extravagant sum her father had demanded. Ten times the dowry was impossible. Not even her entire family could scrape that together and Blaise knew that.
This was a trap she had never seen coming.
Her heart pounded in her chest. It was slow and painful. It wasn't about the money, but it was about power. He wanted to break her spirit. He wanted to remind her of how much control he still had over her life.
"What? You can't afford it?"
"I'll pay. I'll work for the money and give it to you"
She was the one who wanted this freedom and she had to work her way out of this marriage for her freedom. This marriage was killing her. Her staying in it was slowly killing her, and if no one else was going to save her… then she had to save herself.
She didn't have a plan. She didn't have power, but she had pain; the pain she had felt being Mrs. Astor.
Every day in this house felt like breathing through a straw, smiling when she wanted to scream and tiptoeing through a life that never truly belonged to her.
"Work?" Blaise laughed. "You want to get a job? Think of it, which company do you think will offer you a job? Or have you forgotten who you are and the man you belong to?"
Estelle frowned.
Of course, she wasn't just anyone. She wasn't some regular woman who could write down her qualifications on a CV and chase a little hope out there. She was Mrs. Astor, a title that sounded more like a brand than a name, and Blaise? Blaise was the Astor. The man whose last name was engraved into glass buildings, corporate towers, and contracts signed in boardrooms that she had never stepped into. He didn't just run a company, he owned the soil beneath most people's feet.
Trying to get a job?
That was almost stupid.
There wasn't a single company that didn't owe him something. No office she could walk into without security looking twice. No HR manager who wouldn't panic at her name. No job offer that wouldn't get revoked the second he picked up the phone and said, "She doesn't need that."
Even if she stripped herself of the designer dresses, the rings, the name, people would still see her as his wife, and the whispers would follow.
Why would Mrs. Astor want a job?
Is Blaise not taking care of her anymore?
Is she playing some kind of social
experiment?
Maybe it's for a role, or a film, or a brand.
Because women like her weren't allowed to want something so simple. Not after they had been caged in marble.
To them, she already had it all.
However, Estelle wasn't looking for attention. She was looking for a way to breathe.
She raised her head to look at him, the tears that had gathered in her eyes were already threatening to fall, but she wiped them with the back of her hand. "All I want is peace and my freedom and I'm going to do everything to get that. I don't care what it takes, Blaise"
"You're mine, Estelle. You don't get to walk away when I haven't dismissed you."
Her stomach twisted at his words.
He reached out with his other hand and grabbed her jaw, forcing her to look up at him. His hold was harsh and hard, his fingers pressing into her cheeks.
"You've gotten bold lately" he muttered, his eyes scanning her face with a low burning threat. "I think I need to remind you of your place."
"No-"
Before she could complete her words, Blaise had pulled her up and pushed her to the bed. Her body landed heavily on the soft bed, almost bouncing her off the bed. She turned her head to look at him and saw that his hands were on his belt, unbuckling them slowly. He slid it off and threw it aside, then he reached for his shirt buttons and pulled it off.
"No… no, please not tonight" Estelle knew what he wanted. She pleaded, clasped her palms together, but those cries fell on deaf ears. Her eyes were on him, she watched him lean over the bed, reaching for her legs that she had folded under the duvet. He yanked off the duvet off her body and grabbed her ankle, his cold palm sent shivers down her spine.
He pulled her body towards him, forcefully. Then, he reached for her gown, his dark eyes filled with hunger and lust. She gasped, trying to stop him, but he caught both her wrists in one strong hand and pinned them above her head. The other hand yanked, fabric tore, sharp and sudden, the sound ripping through the tension between them as her clothes fell away in shred.
He licked his lips as her boobs jumped right straight in front of his eyes. He reached for those little pumpkins almost immediately, squeezing them slowly, but hard. His fingers pinched her pink erect nipples and that made her whimper. He raised his head, his gaze landed on her face as he saw her bite her lower lip, her eyes squeezed shut.
His cock hardened at that sight. He reached for his pants and pulled it before positioning himself between her legs again.
"Blaise, please…" Estelle could only manage to say, but he had already shifted her pants and entered her.