Chapter 6
Richard towered over Margaret, his eyes churning with anger she couldn't decipher.
Margaret slowly pushed herself up from the carpet. Her wrist, where he had gripped her, was already turning purplish-blue and burned with pain.
She met his gaze, her eyes utterly void. "Richard, don't touch me."
Richard's pupils contracted sharply. He leaned down, gripping her chin to force her to look at him, his fingertips pressing with punitive intent.
"Matthew was just released from prison today, and you're already in such a hurry to preserve your virtue for him?"
Margaret suddenly smiled, though the smile never reached her eyes. In his eyes, was she just this kind of shameless, fickle woman?
"Yes, you're right about everything."
She abandoned any struggle, any explanation. "So let me go, and free yourself too."
Her submission angered Richard more than any fierce resistance could have.
A nameless rage consumed what little rationality he had left.
He had expected her to cry, to make a scene, to defend herself—but she did none of these things.
Even her gaze was like that of a stranger, as if their five-year marriage had been nothing but an insignificant transaction.
"Let you go?" Richard gave a cold laugh, releasing her and straightening up. He methodically unbuttoned his shirt cuffs. "Margaret, have you forgotten? You were the one who begged to marry into the Neville family. I decide when this game ends, not you."
"You think after leaving me, you and Matthew can live happily ever after? Let me tell you, with just one word from me, he'll never find a decent job in his lifetime."
"You're despicable!" Margaret's voice trembled.
"I can be even more despicable," Richard looked down at her, his eyes cold. "You can also forget about that nominal position at the Neville Group. Starting tomorrow, you'll report to the Neville Group headquarters every day."
He wanted to see if Margaret would still have Matthew on her mind after this!
Margaret was stunned, unsure of his intentions.
Seeing her bewilderment, Richard's lips curved into a cruel smile.
He intended to bind her firmly to his side, to make her watch how the man she cherished would be ruined because of her.
He wanted her to understand that he was the only one she could rely on.
The next day at the Neville Group.
Margaret stood outside the department's glass doors, feeling disoriented.
This department was famously known as a retirement sanctuary within the Neville Group—impressive-sounding but essentially a place to park people with connections or those being sidelined.
She had studied finance abroad, yet Richard had assigned her here. His intentions were clear.
Inside the office, a few people were scattered about—some secretly browsing shopping sites, others touching up makeup in small mirrors, and some simply gathered in conversation.
Margaret's arrival drew everyone's attention.
Who didn't know that this CEO's wife held the title but was treated worse than a servant?
A woman with permed curls spoke with a sarcastic tone, "Well, if it isn't the CEO's wife. What brings you to our humble department?"
Margaret ignored her and turned on her ancient, nearly defunct computer.
She didn't care about position or others' opinions. She just wanted to quietly endure until her divorce day arrived.
However, Richard clearly had no intention of letting her have her way.
At 2:30 PM, during the department meeting, the office door opened and Richard walked in.
Behind him followed a young woman dressed in Chanel's latest collection, with impeccable makeup.
It was Jennifer.
The entire office instantly fell silent.
Richard scanned the room, his gaze briefly lingering on Margaret for a second before falling on Jennifer beside him. Remarkably, his typically stern face softened slightly.
"Let me introduce Jennifer Barnes. Starting today, she'll serve as our Strategic Development Department's Deputy Manager."
Deputy Manager?
Everyone gasped.
Owen Adams's position as manager was already largely ceremonial, and now a deputy manager? One personally escorted by Richard himself?
All eyes began shifting between Margaret and Jennifer.
Margaret sat in the corner, eyes downcast, as if everything unfolding before her was irrelevant.
Jennifer smiled warmly at everyone, clearly positioning herself as the lady of the house.
"Hello everyone, I'm Jennifer Barnes. I'm new here, so I'll be counting on all of you." Her voice was sweet, but her eyes carried the confidence of a victor, deliberately glancing toward Margaret.
"I heard from Richie that Margaret's health has never been good. Please don't let her overwork herself. Anything can be handled by me and the rest of you. After all, the Neville Group is quite humane—we don't make employees work while ill, right, Mr. Adams?"
Owen was perceptive and immediately understood. He hastily agreed, "Yes, yes, Ms. Barnes, you're absolutely right! Mrs. Neville—I mean, Margaret—your health comes first. Don't worry about these departmental matters anymore. Just focus on resting."
Others in the office quickly followed suit.
"Margaret, you look so pale. Why not take an extended leave to recover?"
"Exactly. With Ms. Barnes here, you can rest easy!"
Each statement of "concern" transformed Margaret into a burden for the entire department.
Jennifer watched with satisfaction, her smile deepening.
This was exactly the effect she wanted.
She wanted everyone to know who deserved to stand beside Richard, who was truly destined to be the future Mrs. Neville!
After the meeting, everyone crowded around Jennifer as they left, and the office returned to silence.
The woman with the permed curls approached, patting Margaret's shoulder with fake sympathy. "Don't take it to heart. For a woman, what matters is having a healthy body that can bear children. Look at you—after all these years of struggle, someone else ends up benefiting."
Margaret finally raised her eyes. Her calm gaze held nothing but coldness as she spoke slowly, "Rena, I recall your mortgage payment last month was covered by your husband's bonus, wasn't it? That project of his, I believe, was specially approved by Mr. Neville."
Rena's smile instantly froze.
Margaret turned to another male colleague who had agreed with Jennifer during the meeting. "Cliff, your son starts elementary school this year. School selection fees aren't cheap, are they? I heard your wife is looking to change jobs. The HR department probably hasn't completed the process yet, have they?"
