Sienna Monroe paused while drinking tea, her eyelids slowly lowered.
At this mont, it was as if she was deeply imrsed in an indescribable sadness.
Her deanor spoke louder than words.
Her grievance and sorrow were perfectly expressed.
Isaac Sinclair saw this and sighed.
Pointing at Caleb Sinclair in frustration, he said, "Honestly, I’m ashad. It’s really because of this disgraceful rascal who is not ambitious, causing scandals like this and bringing sha to the family."
Caleb Sinclair was tight-lipped beside him, letting him scold, seemingly numb,
but his deep gaze was directly fixed on Sienna Monroe, not moving an inch since she entered.
Inside his gaze, there was reluctance, tenderness, admiration, and a hint of greedy nostalgia.
Isaac Sinclair paused for two seconds, then continued, "I seriously asked him, the night Caleb went to find Vivian Nash, indeed it was to discuss Vivian Nash’s pregnancy, it was Vivian who actively contacted him.
As for the reports, I also investigated, it was people from the Prescott Family who were spreading rumors, intentionally guiding the story, fabricating lies."
Prescott Family?
Sienna Monroe’s brow moved slightly, her face showing appropriate astonishnt.
Check all you want, it’s impossible to trace back to the Prescott Family.
Unless... they want to use them as a scapegoat, fooling her, trying to dispel her thoughts of divorce.
That’s quite a clever plan.
Sienna Monroe muttered a bit with her lips, her expression sorrowful, in a desolate tone with a few traces of determination, "I know what you’re implying, but... I’ve decided, I still want a divorce."
She gently sniffed, seeming to confess, "It doesn’t matter what he went to do with Vivian Nash, he shouldn’t have kept it from .
More importantly, Vivian Nash is carrying his child, once she returned, he hurriedly went to find her, how is this any different than slapping in the face?"
She stopped speaking, her eyes couldn’t help but redden, "I know, my marriage with him represents two families, I shouldn’t be so selfish, but I just can’t do it."
Saying this, she stood up, deeply bowed to Isaac Sinclair, and tears just fell from her eyes.
The helplessness, fragility, determination, and a trace of inevitable despair trapped the father and son like a dense net.
Isaac Sinclair quickly approached to help her up, sighed heavily again, "Child... ah, what are you saying, how can any interest be more important than you?
Ah, I don’t have the face to tell you to move back to the Moonlit Villa, now that you are apart... it’s just as well."
As soon as he finished speaking, Sienna Monroe and Caleb Sinclair were both stunned.
Neither of them expected him to let go so easily.
Sienna Monroe subconsciously felt it was unusual, there must be a hidden agenda.
Not to ntion the Hughes Family and the Monroe Family’s reputation behind her, how could Isaac Sinclair easily let go?
But Caleb Sinclair beca anxious first.
"Dad! You can’t..."
"Shut up!" Isaac Sinclair interrupted angrily, glaring sharply at him, "How can you still talk when things have developed to this point? Kneel down!"
Caleb Sinclair’s words choked in his throat.
He clenched his fists, unwillingness flashed in his eyes, then he looked deflatedly at Sienna Monroe, saw her eyes red, filled with tears, and his heart imdiately wrenched.
Unbearably painful.
After ten seconds, he lowered his proud shoulders and knelt down in Sienna Monroe’s direction.
In the spacious living room, Isaac Sinclair’s forceful scolding still echoed, "You and Sienna had such a great marriage, now it’s all a ss because of you.
What? If you don’t want a divorce, you’ll drag Sienna with you? How dare you? I really am... really am..."
As he spoke, he beca angrier, he looked around, seemingly wanting to find sothing to use, but after a circle, he couldn’t find anything suitable.
So he hurled two pillows from the sofa at Caleb.
The soft pillows lightly fell to the ground, without any sound.
Caleb Sinclair remained unmoved, still kneeling straight, his deep loving gaze unwaveringly fixed on Sienna Monroe.
Isaac Sinclair’s anger flared again, "Useless brat!"
Saying this, he picked up the warm teacup and threw it.
It hit him squarely on the forehead.
With a loud "bang," the fine porcelain cup shattered on the ground, shards scattered around.
The slightly hot water slid down Caleb’s face, drenching him, leaving red marks on his fair skin, and where the teacup hit, a cut appeared.
Droplets of blood erged, quickly rging into the tea water, rolling down the bridge of his nose.
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