Sorry, Mr. Stanford, Your Wife Owns You - Chapter 10: Chapter 10
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The room erupted in shock as the head of the Stanford family begged publicly.
"Did Nelson Stanford just plead with her? Could she actually be telling the truth?"
"Are we really about to lose our jobs over this? No way!"
"Relax. Even if it's true, Miss Winslow still supports Mr. Stanford. What's there to panic about?"
I lifted my gaze, scanning the murmuring crowd before locking eyes with Nelson—his own brimming with unshed tears.
"Let it go, Mr. Stanford. Everyone has their own fate."
"Enough!" Leonard's roar cut through the whispers.
His face flushed with rage as he glared at Nelson. "I'm done with this! I want a divorce—now!"
"I'm in charge of the Stanford family now. The company is mine. You don't control me anymore!"
Before Nelson could react, Leonard yanked a thick stack of documents from his briefcase and slammed them in front of me.
A divorce agreement.
"Nicole Beaumont, sign it. Name your price. Anything you want."
"This ends today."
Nelson was speechless, his face turning ghostly pale as his breathing grew ragged—his blood pressure spiking dangerously.
Leonard barely spared him a glance before barking orders to rush him to the hospital.
With Nelson gone, Leonard had no restraints left.
He shoved a pen into my hand, his stare icy.
I flipped to the last e—his signature already inked boldly at the bottom.
A quiet laugh escaped me as I met his impatient gaze. "Leonard… I hope you won't regret this."
"Not a single regret."
I gave a slow nod. Then, under the weight of dozens of watching eyes, I signed.
Leonard snatched the papers like I might rip them apart, relief flooding his expression as he pulled Quincy into his arms—as if I were the villain keeping true lovers apart.
Quincy beamed, pressing a smug kiss to his cheek before shooting me a look of pure disdain.
"Get her out of here. She's an eyesore."
After what I'd just done, none of them dared lay a finger on me.
But Leonard wasn't here for a fight—he just wanted me gone.
My lips curled into a cold smirk. "Now… it's time to settle my account."
Quincy scoffed, picking up her cracked phone—miraculously still working—just as I locked eyes with her and spoke clearly:
"Hey Siri, call Morgan Winslow."
"Calling Morgan Winslow…"
The blood drained from both their faces.
"Are you joking? You're calling my dad?"
"Leonard—did she just say—?"
Before she could finish, the call connected instantly.
"Ms. Beaumont! What an honor. I should be the one coming to greet you in person."
Quincy froze.
That voice—unmistakable.
Her smirk vanished, replaced by stunned disbelief. "D… Dad?"
A beat of silence. Then—
"Quincy? Why are you calling from Ms. Beaumont's phone?"
"Did Nelson Stanford just plead with her? Could she actually be telling the truth?"
"Are we really about to lose our jobs over this? No way!"
"Relax. Even if it's true, Miss Winslow still supports Mr. Stanford. What's there to panic about?"
I lifted my gaze, scanning the murmuring crowd before locking eyes with Nelson—his own brimming with unshed tears.
"Let it go, Mr. Stanford. Everyone has their own fate."
"Enough!" Leonard's roar cut through the whispers.
His face flushed with rage as he glared at Nelson. "I'm done with this! I want a divorce—now!"
"I'm in charge of the Stanford family now. The company is mine. You don't control me anymore!"
Before Nelson could react, Leonard yanked a thick stack of documents from his briefcase and slammed them in front of me.
A divorce agreement.
"Nicole Beaumont, sign it. Name your price. Anything you want."
"This ends today."
Nelson was speechless, his face turning ghostly pale as his breathing grew ragged—his blood pressure spiking dangerously.
Leonard barely spared him a glance before barking orders to rush him to the hospital.
With Nelson gone, Leonard had no restraints left.
He shoved a pen into my hand, his stare icy.
I flipped to the last e—his signature already inked boldly at the bottom.
A quiet laugh escaped me as I met his impatient gaze. "Leonard… I hope you won't regret this."
"Not a single regret."
I gave a slow nod. Then, under the weight of dozens of watching eyes, I signed.
Leonard snatched the papers like I might rip them apart, relief flooding his expression as he pulled Quincy into his arms—as if I were the villain keeping true lovers apart.
Quincy beamed, pressing a smug kiss to his cheek before shooting me a look of pure disdain.
"Get her out of here. She's an eyesore."
After what I'd just done, none of them dared lay a finger on me.
But Leonard wasn't here for a fight—he just wanted me gone.
My lips curled into a cold smirk. "Now… it's time to settle my account."
Quincy scoffed, picking up her cracked phone—miraculously still working—just as I locked eyes with her and spoke clearly:
"Hey Siri, call Morgan Winslow."
"Calling Morgan Winslow…"
The blood drained from both their faces.
"Are you joking? You're calling my dad?"
"Leonard—did she just say—?"
Before she could finish, the call connected instantly.
"Ms. Beaumont! What an honor. I should be the one coming to greet you in person."
Quincy froze.
That voice—unmistakable.
Her smirk vanished, replaced by stunned disbelief. "D… Dad?"
A beat of silence. Then—
"Quincy? Why are you calling from Ms. Beaumont's phone?"
End of Sorry, Mr. Stanford, Your Wife Owns You Chapter 10. Continue reading Chapter 11 or return to Sorry, Mr. Stanford, Your Wife Owns You book page.