Chapter 246

Faced with Athena’s actions, Fiona was filled with complicated emotions. She wanted to help Athena, but with Cedric so seriously ill, she couldn’t get away. All she could do was powerlessly watch Athena walk out of the duke’s estate.

Nicolas, however, wasn’t afraid at all. He said loudly, “She never stops. Does she think the palace is her backyard, that she can just walk in whenever she wants? She’s just a mere Viscountess. How arrogant.”

He was convinced that Athena wouldn’t be able to get into the palace and didn’t take her threats seriously.

When he turned back, he saw Fiona staring at him with piercing eyes. Fiona’s frosty gaze sent a shiver down Nicolas’s spine. Something about her today felt off.

“I’m asking you. Who looked after Cedric last night?” Fiona asked calmly.

But the calmer she was, the more uneasy Nicolas felt.

He forced himself to remain composed and said, “Didn’t I say? The wet nurse was taking care of him.”

Fiona replied, “If it were the wet nurse, Cedric wouldn’t be in this state. Those women were brought from my family, and they’re loyal to me. Do you think I’ll believe a word you say?”

Fiona’s gaze was full of disappointment. She couldn’t believe he would hurt his own son. Tears fell down her face as she looked stubbornly at Nicolas. She needed the truth.

Nicolas was cornered by her questioning. He snapped, “You really think I’d harm my own son? Instead of looking after the child, you’re questioning me?”

“Wouldn’t you?” Fiona suddenly raised her voice. “Cedric was getting better, and now he suddenly relapses. This morning, he had a high fever and wouldn’t wake up no matter how much I called him.”

“Nicolas, what did you do to him?” She didn’t care about her etiquette and composure anymore. All she cared about was her child.

Fiona, like a madwoman, grabbed Nicolas by the collar, gritting her teeth. “Say it!”

“Let go!” Nicolas’s face darkened, his fists clenched.

“Speak!” The next moment, Fiona was violently shoved to the ground, her cry of pain abruptly cutting off her words.

She had always been frail, and Nicolas’s push made her hit her head against the corner of the table. Fiona remained sprawled on the floor, dazed and unable to get up. Nicolas was stunned by his own strength. He hadn’t meant for her to hit her head.

Watching her lie there, unmoving, a pang of self-reproach shot through him. But his pride wouldn’t let him apologize.

Standing over her, he scoffed. “Quit pretending. I barely touched you. Don’t try to fool me with cheap tricks.”

The two were quarreling fiercely in the room, with not a single maid or servant around. The door remained firmly shut. No one dared to enter without his order. Fiona held onto the table to support herself. Her head spun, and she couldn’t stand even after several tries.

Realizing she might not be faking, Nicolas crouched down and sneered. “Did you actually get hurt? You’re so delicate, just like you always were.”

He reached out to help her, but Fiona’s trembling voice entered his ears. “Nicolas, tell me the truth. What did you do to Cedric?”

They had already argued, and Nicolas knew how stubborn she could be. If he didn’t explain now, she’d never let it go.

Annoyed, he sighed and said, “He’s my son. Why would I really hurt him? I just kept him up all night, that’s all.”

Suddenly, a loud slap landed squarely on Nicolas’s face. He felt dizzy, and his cheek burned with searing pain.

When he came to his senses, he glared at Fiona like a beast and roared, “You crazy woman! If you don’t want to be the future duchess, just say it…”

But before he could finish, his eyes widened in shock.

Fiona’s forehead was bleeding, red trickling down her face. She didn’t scream or cry, just stared at him coldly.

She said coldly, “You used your own child to frame Athena. Nicolas, you really are heartless. You’re no better than a beast?”

Years of suppressed anger exploded in that moment.

With her face covered in blood, Fiona looked like someone who had lost her mind.

Nicolas was stunned, terrified by what he saw. She was not the gentle, obedient wife he had known. Fiona had always spoken softly, never once yelled at him. He knew she loved him.

And because of that love, he had always treated her coldly. Nicolas believed that women shouldn’t be pampered, that a man had to assert his dominance. He was the heir apparent to the dukedom, an official in the Justice Ministry, and the future master of the estate.

With such a prominent status, women would naturally throw themselves at his feet.

Nicolas thought bitterly, ‘Since when has Fiona become so ungrateful?’

It all started when Athena returned. Athena was the root of all this.

Nicolas said, “You dare strike your husband? Then you can forget about being the duchess.”

He clenched his teeth and spat out coldly, “I want a divorce.”

He thought Fiona would beg for mercy. But instead, she threw her head back and laughed wildly. She even smashed the vase on the table.

Swaying slightly, Fiona stood up and pointed at him, shouting, “Who wants to be your duchess? You’re rotten from head to toe. I must’ve been blind to marry you, and help you manage everything.”

Fiona declared, “Even if you don’t divorce me today, I’ll still ask for a separation.”

Nicolas’s eye twitched violently. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. His heart burned with rage.

Nicolas sneered, “Fine. As you wish. I’d like to see who would still want you after being cast out.”

In their society, a divorced woman was considered ruined. Fiona, being merely a merchant’s daughter, would face utter disgrace if she was divorced. Even if she remarried, it’d be to some lowly man.

She could’ve lived comfortably, yet she chose to raise hell.

Enraged, Nicolas grabbed a pen and paper to write the divorce papers. But a pale hand stopped him. Fiona’s voice was calm. “I don’t want the estate. I don’t want the dowry. I just want Cedric.”

Seeing that she was serious, Nicolas grew even angrier. He spat, “Don’t even think about it. Cedric is my son. You won’t take him.”

A divorced woman left with nothing. That was tradition. He was already being generous, letting her leave with her dowry.

Nicolas said, “Cedric is a child of duke’s estate. He’s a Monson by blood.”

Nicolas shot Fiona a contemptuous look. “You’re nothing but a lowly merchant’s daughter. If Cedric stays with you, he’ll only face scorn from everyone. You’re a discarded woman. What kind of future can you give him?”

As he spoke, he finished the divorce paper and shoved it toward her. “Sign it. Then get out.”