THE TRAMPH WHO BECAME AN HEIR TO A FORTUNE

Chapter 4

"Stop here. Stop right here." Dylan stepped out of the luxurious limousine that had brought him.

"Why, Sir? It's still about 500 meters to the Haroldson residence," the driver and Bill asked, puzzled.

"Uh, I just... I feel uncomfortable, Bill. No bodyguards, please. Don’t follow me. I can handle my business. Could you open the door for me?" Dylan asked.

The driver pressed the automatic lock, and Bill quickly opened the door.

"Please contact me if you need anything. Anytime, sir," Bill said politely.

"Just call me Dylan, not 'sir.' I... I’m not used to it yet," Dylan awkwardly requested.

"Alright, Dylan," Bill replied with a slight bow.

Dylan tilted his head and walked away. He disliked being treated like that—too much respect, he thought. Dylan waved his hand dismissively. "What are you doing?" he muttered under his breath, picking up his pace to leave Bill behind.

Bill continued to observe his master. He touched the headset in one ear and spoke firmly, "[For now, cease the surveillance on Young Master Ethan. We'll observe from a distance.]"

"[Understood]," came the synchronized responses from several bodyguards covertly watching over Dylan.

As Dylan approached the door, his chest tightened at the thought of Valerie's birthday party. Is this really where it all ends? If I reveal my status, will Valerie and her family change their attitudes toward me? He wrestled with these questions as he moved toward the main room.

Hanry, Patricia, and Valerie were all gathered there.

"Tramp, you're back? Where have you been? You're completely useless and unfit to work. You missed a day of work!" Hanry greeted him harshly.

It was common, and Dylan was used to receiving such insults. "Dad, I will not divorce Valerie!" Dylan replied indifferently, raising his chin as he stated his opinion.

"Have you no shame? Valerie doesn't want you!" Patricia snapped in anger this time.

"Mom, Dad, let me talk to Dylan. Please, just stay quiet," Valerie interjected, grabbing Dylan’s arm and pulling him toward her car. Hanry and Patricia glared in anger.

"Val, are you crazy? That tramp has probably put a voodoo spell on you!" Hanry shouted as Valerie ignored her parents’ protests.

"We're eating out, Dylan." Valerie tugged on her husband's strong arm.

"Val, why eat out?" Dylan was touched that Valerie stood up for him against Hanry and Patricia. It was strange, but perhaps Valerie pitied him after Max had hurt him the other day. Could that be it? Dylan speculated on Valerie’s motives, feeling a glimmer of happiness at her kindness. Could she finally realize that I am her rightful husband?

"Don't worry, I'll pay," Valerie said plainly while driving.

Dylan was used to giving three-quarters of his salary to Valerie as spousal support, with the rest going toward his mother’s hospital bills. He barely had any money for himself, only loose change, as he ate at home and rarely shopped. Now that he wasn’t allowed to work, he was truly penniless.

"I-I can pay if we eat at Atlantis or, um, maybe Blue Sky, Val?" Dylan suggested hesitantly. This could be the right moment to be honest with his wife.

Atlantis was the Haroldson family’s favorite upscale restaurant, while Blue Sky was another luxurious eatery that required exclusive membership. Ordinary patrons weren’t allowed unless they had a Black Card, though Platinum Cardholders could enter the ground floor. VIP and VVIP areas were strictly off-limits to non-members. The Haroldsons, who only had Platinum Cards, occasionally dined there to maintain their social standing in the business world.

"Hahaha... as if! If you’re scared of losing me, please don’t joke like that. I might vomit from your delusions. Atlantis? Blue Sky? You’re dreaming too high!" Valerie shook her head repeatedly.

She doesn’t believe me, Dylan thought, scratching his head. And why would she? Even he couldn’t fully grasp his own fate.

"About Max… I’m sorry. It was my birthday, and I couldn’t go against Dad’s orders," Valerie said as she parked the car.

They headed into The Vargas Café. Dylan smiled. He felt certain that Valerie was genuinely a good person. Dylan pulled out a chair for her, and Valerie deftly ordered coffee and snacks since it wasn’t mealtime yet.

"So, we’re staying married, right?" Dylan asked gently, savoring his coffee. Valerie looked stunning as she smiled warmly across from him.

Valerie smiled back. "No. I’ll pay for your mother’s hospital bills, but please sign our divorce papers. I’m not happy with the meager support you provide as a lowly accountant. And now that you’re unemployed? I’m a CEO of Harold Group. How dare you humiliate me with your small allowance? Your shabby suit and single pair of shoes are embarrassing for me. I’ll pay whatever it takes—just sign this paper!" Valerie slid the divorce papers toward him.

"Val, I married you because of Grandpa Larry’s wishes. Wasn’t that his dying request? Besides, why did you agree to marry me in front of him?" Dylan was stunned. It seemed Valerie wanted a divorce in the most polite way possible—manipulating him as if he were a fool.

Divorcing Dylan was difficult. He provided financial support, wasn’t unfaithful, and came straight home after work to serve the Haroldsons as both a cook and housekeeper. Whenever disputes arose, Dylan always yielded. Valerie’s divorce petition could easily be delayed or dismissed due to insufficient grounds.

"Didn’t you realize? I only acted nice to you in front of Grandpa. Behind his back, I’ve always ridiculed you. Isn’t that enough?" Valerie raised an eyebrow, her earlier friendly demeanor vanishing to reveal her true colors.

"Val, I know. I’ve endured your ridicule, but for Grandpa Larry’s sake, please don’t go through with this divorce. I promise you’ll never be ashamed again. I’ll provide the wealth and status you want so we can be equals. Isn’t that what you want?" Dylan pleaded, though his voice carried a hint of firmness. His heart ached at how deeply Valerie had been demeaning him.

"Hahaha... your nonsense today only reinforces my decision. A stressed and depressed man like you isn’t fit to be my husband. Whether you sign or not, we’ll get divorced!"

"Val, what do you mean?" Dylan tried to lift his head, but it felt unusually heavy. He rubbed his face, struggling to keep his eyes open. The drowsiness was overpowering, and he yawned once more. Valerie’s smiling face was the last thing he saw before the sound of approaching footsteps reached his ears.

"Take him!" barked a man’s voice, followed by Valerie’s sly smile as several men approached Dylan’s limp body slumped over the table. His eyes finally closed.