Daughter Called Another Man “Dad”,So I Left

They were even wearing matching couple's watches, yet she still had the nerve to accuse him of being petty?

Of being jealous?

Hildegarde noticed Wilfred's gaze drift toward her wrist. Her face flushed, and she instinctively tugged her sleeve down. "Oh, right," she said, her tone flat. "I picked up a watch for you at the airport during my last business trip."

She rummaged through her handbag and pulled out a gift box.

Then tossed it on the floor like garbage.

The whole gesture reeked of charity—like she was throwing scraps to a beggar.

Wilfred looked down.

The box had popped open on impact. Inside lay a men's wristwatch.

Except...

It was obviously fake.

The crystal, the band—everything screamed cheap knockoff. You could probably find half a dozen just like it at any street vendor for a hundred bucks.

"Oh, Hildegarde, you're too good to him!" Patrick made a show of examining his own wrist. "Getting him a gift even on a business trip. Honestly, that watch looks way nicer than mine. This Larum I'm wearing is so uncomfortable."

Irritation flickered across Hildegarde's face at Patrick's theatrics, though she masked it quickly. "Just take the gift and go upstairs," she said coldly. "What happened before—I'm willing to forget it."

"Patrick and I need to go out for a bit. We can talk when I get back tonight."

"No. You misunderstand."

Wilfred didn't pick up the cheap watch. He met her eyes. "I didn't come back to make up with you. I came to get my things. And also—"

He produced a document folder and a designer diamond engagement ring.

"Hildegarde, here's the divorce agreement I drafted. Since you won't go to Family Court, we'll do this by mutual consent."

"You—"

Her brows shot up.

She genuinely hadn't expected him to be this stubborn. She'd already backed down, and he was still pushing?

"Wilfred, do you actually think I'm afraid to divorce you?"

"Then divorce me."

"Sign it, we file at the courthouse, and it's official."

"You... Fine. Fine. You want a divorce? You've got one."

Hildegarde was furious now.

He kept dangling divorce over her head like a threat. Did he really think Hildegarde Pruitt couldn't survive without Wilfred Dickerson?

She snatched up the agreement and skimmed it. A second later, her expression twisted. She slammed the papers onto the table.

"Wilfred, what the hell is this?"

"Why are you claiming so much of the assets?"

"You want Pruitt Group stock? In your dreams!"

"I built that company from nothing. What right do you have to my shares?"

Wilfred's face remained blank.

"Hildegarde, did you really think I spent all these years just puttering around the kitchen? When Pruitt Group went public, I bought three hundred lots of stock. I now personally hold fifteen percent of the company."

"I don't want anything from the Pruitt family. But that fifteen percent? That's mine, and I'm taking it."

"What?"

Hildegarde went pale. Patrick looked equally stunned.

Fifteen percent personal stake in Pruitt Group.

At the current share price of twelve dollars and eighty cents, fifteen percent came to... six hundred million dollars.

This useless man had that kind of money?

Hildegarde refused to believe it. She pulled out her phone and called her secretary, demanding verification.

The answer came back.

That fifteen percent was registered under Wilfred Dickerson's name.

"You... you..."

For once, Hildegarde Pruitt had absolutely nothing to say.