You Scorned My Love, So Why Are You Kneeling When I Asked for a Divorce?

A sharp, stinging pain spread through her heart.

She bit her lip hard, her hands clenched into fists, nails digging deep into her palms.

Hatred spread through her heart.

’She never imagined Tristan Sterling would abandon even his most basic principles for Vivian Linton!’

’Weren’t deceit and such underhanded, dirty tactics the very things he despised most?!’

’But now, for the sake of his beloved, he was willing to become the very person he loathed?’

Ha~

Her eyes red, Holly Sinclair turned and left.

Back in the main hall, she waited quietly for the results, clinging to a sliver of hope.

’Maybe I misheard. Maybe things aren’t what I think they are...’

’Until the final results are announced, I have to stay calm. I can’t lose it.’

Time was up.

The event organizer took the stage and, under the expectant gazes of the crowd, announced loudly—

"After careful inspection and comparison by our review team, I hereby announce that the winner is... Vervain Studio!"

The moment he finished, thunderous applause erupted.

"Tristan!"

Vivian Linton excitedly grabbed Tristan Sterling’s arm, her eyes sparkling as she looked at him, her joy plain to see.

"Congratulations," Tristan Sterling said with a nod.

Everyone crowded around to offer their congratulations to Vivian Linton.

A chorus of compliments rose and fell.

Vivian Linton basked in it.

She reveled in being the center of attention, her vanity deeply satisfied.

"Miss Linton, do you have anything to say about your easy victory?"

A reporter held out a microphone.

"Thank you all for your support and recognition. The other studios here today were also excellent. This time, Vervain Studio just barely managed to win."

Vivian Linton faced the crowd with elegance and grace, a gentle smile on her face.

Her modest words earned another round of applause.

"Also, there’s one person I’d especially like to thank."

She smiled sweetly, then turned to look affectionately at the man beside her. "Tristan, thank you for your unwavering support and companionship. I will continue to work hard to make you proud of me."

"Mm."

Although Tristan Sterling had only responded with a single word, it was enough to make everyone incredibly envious.

"Wow~ Miss Linton and Mr. Sterling have such a great relationship..."

"I know, right? A talented man and a beautiful woman—they’re a picture-perfect couple, the envy of everyone."

"The most amazing part is that someone of Mr. Sterling’s status is so devoted to Miss Linton. It’s so rare."

"Exactly..."

Silently listening to the envious chatter all around, Holly Sinclair felt as if her heart was being pierced by needles.

Her eyes were bloodshot as she stared fixedly at Tristan Sterling and Vivian Linton, who were being interviewed by the media not far away.

Hatred sprouted like weeds in her heart.

Seeing Holly Sinclair’s distress, Justin Schofield couldn’t bear it.

He whipped out his phone, immediately called a friend, and cursed in a low voice, "What the fuck! What’s the meaning of this? You clearly said our studio won just a minute ago—"

"It was a last-minute change, I couldn’t do anything about it. Man, I’m just an employee. The decision isn’t up to me, I don’t have a say," his friend explained helplessly.

Furious, Justin Schofield snarled, "Fuck off," and hung up the phone.

After the brief interview, the organizers dismissed the reporters and the crowd.

Next up was the contract signing between Vivian Linton and the organizers.

Vivian Linton, arm in arm with Tristan Sterling, followed the fawning organizer to the conference room.

Almost everyone had left, but Holly Sinclair remained rooted to the spot.

Justin Schofield sighed and patted her shoulder comfortingly. "Forget it, Holly. Let’s go—Hey! Where are you going?"

But before he could finish, he saw Holly Sinclair suddenly storm off toward the conference room.

’She was going to demand justice!!’

BANG!

Holly Sinclair slammed open the conference room door.

Everyone inside jumped in surprise, their heads whipping around to look at her.

Ignoring the astonished stares, Holly Sinclair’s target was clear. She rushed forward to slap Tristan Sterling.

Unfortunately, she didn’t succeed.

He caught her raised hand in midair.

"Are you crazy?"

Tristan Sterling’s sharp brows furrowed, his eyes glinting with a cold light.

"Tristan Sterling, you bastard! What right do you have to make them change the results? My restoration was the best! That contract belongs to me!"

Holly Sinclair glared viciously at the man, roaring with emotion.

Hearing this, a flicker of panic flashed in Vivian Linton’s eyes.

"What gives you the confidence to think you were first?"

Tristan Sterling’s face was like ice as he looked down at the woman making a scene, his tone filled with impatience.

"Whether I was first or not, you know perfectly well!" Holly Sinclair roared, her eyes bloodshot.

She was furious and wronged, but she stubbornly refused to let the tears fall.

Vivian Linton glanced at the organizer.

The organizer understood immediately and quickly shouted, "Security! Get these two out of here!"

Two security guards rushed in at once.

Seeing this, Justin Schofield quickly spread his arms to shield Holly Sinclair, protecting her from harm.

Tristan Sterling shot a cool glance at the organizer.

"Mr. Sterling, this..." The organizer’s mouth twitched.

Although he couldn’t guess what the man meant, he knew he definitely couldn’t use force to remove these two now.

The organizer could only secretly wave at the security guards, signaling for them to get lost.

The guards retreated quickly.

At the organizer’s silent signal, the other executives also left the conference room one by one.

The last person to leave even thoughtfully helped close the door.

Tristan Sterling then shot another cold glance at Justin Schofield.

That piercing gaze sent a strange wave of fear through Justin. He awkwardly lowered his arms and couldn’t help but take two steps back.

Tristan Sterling’s aura was too powerful; it was hard not to be afraid.

"Tristan Sterling, give it back!"

Holly Sinclair had no attention to spare for anyone else. With tears in her beautiful eyes, she continued to glare fiercely at the man before her, seething with rage.

"Can’t you just let things go if it means not taking something from Vivian?"

He flung her hand away, his voice as cold as winter ice.

Holly Sinclair stumbled back a step, her face instantly paling as a sharp pain pierced her heart.

’Taking something from Vivian Linton?’

’He was alluding to what happened two years ago.’

’Even now, he was still convinced that she had used despicable means to steal him away from Vivian Linton back then.’

’So now, as long as it was something Vivian Linton wanted, even if she was just fighting for what she rightfully deserved, in his eyes, it was "stealing."’

At this thought, Holly Sinclair’s expression turned as cold as his. "I’ll say it again. This was supposed to be mine. Give it back. I need that prize money."

"You’re short on that little bit of cash?" he snorted impatiently.

"Of course I am!!"

Holly Sinclair could no longer contain the sense of grievance in her heart. She broke down and roared, "Tristan Sterling, do you think everyone is as filthy rich as you? Two million might be a drop in the bucket for you, Mr. Sterling, but to me, it’s my brother’s life!!"

She screamed the words "my brother’s life" until her voice was hoarse.

Tristan Sterling’s dark eyes narrowed. His face was grim as he coldly watched the emotional young woman.

He pressed his thin lips together, his expression inscrutable, making it impossible to guess what he was thinking.

The atmosphere froze.

The organizer, who was standing to the side, didn’t know the two were husband and wife. He just thought Holly Sinclair was making a scene because she was dissatisfied with the results. He hurried forward. "Miss Sinclair, please don’t stir up trouble here. We were fair and impartial—"

"Fair and impartial? Do you dare put my work and her work side-by-side for comparison?!"

Holly Sinclair whipped her head around to glare at the organizer, cutting him off sharply.

"This..." The organizer’s face changed.

A flicker of guilt flashed across his face.

Tristan Sterling stared coldly at the organizer.