I Want a Divorce Every Day, But the Superstar Says No-Chapter 48: The Bet

If, in the past, when Quiana Sutton brought up divorce, there was still some trace of teasing, then today he could feel it completely—this time when Quiana said these words, she was serious. Deadly, deadly serious. There was no room left for negotiation.

But he would never agree to a divorce!

The hand gripping her arm grew unconsciously tighter.

Quiana sucked in a sharp breath from the pain.

Was he trying to yank her arm right off?

Quiana looked up at Durrell Landon’s impossibly handsome face; his eyes burning with undisguised anger, and some crazed determination as if he’d rather die than let go. She actually found it a little funny.

They’d been married three years and he’d never looked at her like this—not once. Now, after losing his memory and spending barely a month together, he was suddenly so in love he’d die before letting her go?

She didn’t believe it for a second.

"Durrell Landon, let’s get divorced. It’s the best ending for both of us."

On such a brilliantly sunny day, his body turned cold all over from her frosty words—as if even his heart had been pierced and was suffering a dull ache. 𝘧𝓇ℯℯ𝑤ℯ𝘣𝓃ℴ𝓋𝑒𝑙.𝑐𝘰𝑚

After a long beat.

He finally seemed to admit defeat and opened his mouth: "Three months. No matter if I get my memory back or not, after three months, we’ll get officially divorced."

Quiana looked at him, puzzled. "Why three months?"

"I promise that in three months, no matter what, we’ll divorce. But you have to agree to one condition."

"What condition?"

"During these three months, you must belong to me completely. Live with me like normal husband and wife."

Quiana: "..."

"I don’t agree."

"If you don’t agree to that, then I definitely won’t agree to the divorce either."

Quiana struggled internally for a moment, but finally gave in.

Honestly, there was no need to make a fuss about it. They’d been married for three years—whatever was supposed to happen had already happened.

"Fine. I agree."

...

Imperial View Manor.

When they returned to Imperial View Manor, both tacitly avoided mentioning anything that had happened at the pavilion.

She assumed Durrell would really divorce her in three months. Until then, she’d do her best to play the part of a good wife.

This kind of role-playing had always been her specialty.

Durrell glanced down at her dust-stained, slightly wrinkled clothes, frowning a little:

"Change your clothes. You’re coming with me to the airport later to pick someone up."

She blinked, a little curious:

"Who on earth could need the mighty young master of the Landon Family to fetch them in person?"

Durrell gave her a look, like he was trying to read some hidden emotion—but, much to his disappointment, she appeared utterly calm.

He withdrew his gaze and spoke lightly:

"Charles Foote’s sister, Violet Foote. She couldn’t wait to come back the moment her world tour ended today."

At this, Quiana raised her brows, folded her arms, half-jokingly asking:

"Durrell Landon, can I ask you a question?"

Durrell kept undressing, not pausing a bit: "What do you want to ask?"

Quiana: "The Foote Estate and the Landon Family are evenly matched. If you wanted a marriage alliance, Violet Foote would clearly be a more suitable choice. Why didn’t you pick her, and chose Evelyn Windsor instead?"

After asking, she leaned her chin on her hand, looking thoughtful:

"Is it because you were worried you might treat Violet badly after marriage, and then you and Charles couldn’t even stay brothers?"

Durrell finished changing and saw her still standing there, lost in thought. He walked over and, rather helplessly, tapped her on the forehead:

"That’s not the main reason. Anyway, go and change."

The sudden tap felt weird to Quiana. Such an intimate gesture didn’t really fit Durrell’s style, but he went and did it as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

Almost like they really were a loving couple.

Had he already gotten into character?

This gave her an odd, indescribable feeling. She could only mutter quietly under her breath:

"People with OCD are so troublesome."

Durrell heard her but could only respond with a helplessly indulgent smile.

...

Ardane International Airport.

Durrell wasn’t the only one picking up Violet Foote; Charles Foote and Julian Haworth were there too, and Julian had even dragged Oliver Gale along for the ride.

Today, Quiana wore ordinary white shirt and blue jeans, with a pair of white sneakers.

Some people are born to stand out. Doesn’t matter if they do anything; even wearing the plainest and most inconspicuous outfits, just standing there, they still have that breathtaking presence.

Oliver Gale grinned and said, "Quiana, even with a mask on, every guy who passes us by gives you a second look. No wonder the heartless Durrell Landon fell for you so hard."

Honestly, if it weren’t for the few of them standing beside her, Oliver could imagine men would already be lining up to hit on her.

Quiana’s face stayed blank as ever. She replied coolly, "Every woman who passes is looking at you guys, too. Should I be marvelling at your irresistible charms?"

Oliver blinked shamelessly. "Quiana, if you want to praise me, I wouldn’t mind at all."

"Have you two finished yet?"

Durrell interrupted coldly, turning to Oliver with obvious warning in his eyes.

Oliver shrugged helplessly. Someone was drowning in jealousy again.

He’d just been joking with Quiana—no need to take it so seriously.

Couldn’t even handle that.

Julian Haworth hadn’t said a word from beginning to end, but his gaze never left Quiana, full of obvious displeasure.

He just couldn’t understand why Durrell insisted on bringing her to meet Violet.

Was this about making everything public for real?

Charles Foote ignored them all, his eyes fixed on the exit.

The moment Violet Foote appeared, Quiana clearly saw the mask-like smile on Charles’s face soften, becoming gentle.

He stepped up to take Violet’s suitcase and said softly, "Welcome home."

Violet’s gaze swept over Durrell, Julian, and Oliver, finally landing on Quiana.

She looked at Charles, curious, "And this is...?"

Charles wasn’t sure how to explain and instinctively glanced at Durrell.

Durrell announced calmly, "My wife."

Violet: "..."

She’d only been gone for about a year, and Durrell Landon was married already?

"Wait, when did that happen? How come I didn’t know?"

Durrell tossed another bomb without a hint of concern for Violet’s feelings.

"We’ve been married three years; it just wasn’t public before."

Violet: "..."

Now she was truly shocked.

Never had she felt language so utterly useless, as if nothing she said could possibly be appropriate right now.