The Ex-Wife's Redemption: A Love Reborn Chapter 124

Grace stared at Henry, unable to process what was happening. Why was he still protecting Sophia after everything had been revealed? She stormed up to him, pointing her finger at his face.

"Henry Harding, are you still my brother?" Her voice grew sharper. "Sophia is nothing but an outsider! You're abandoning Isabella for some random woman? Do you even have a conscience?"

Henry's jaw tightened, but Grace was too furious to notice this warning sign.

"That bitch betrayed you," she continued, spitting out each word unfiltered. "She made you raise another man's child! Don't you hate her for that?" She grabbed his sleeve, her eyes wild with rage. "Brother, why won't you divorce that slut? Throw her out with nothing!"

SLAP!

The sound echoed through the banquet hall like a gunshot. Grace stumbled backward, her hand quickly covering her cheek where Henry's palm had struck.

"Is this what the Harding family taught you?" Henry's voice was dangerously low. "Sophia is your sister-in-law, not some 'slut' for your filthy mouth to disparage!"

Catherine rushed forward, positioning herself between her two children. Tears welled in her eyes as she faced her son.

"Henry, Grace is your sister! Whatever the issue, couldn't you discuss it calmly? Why would you hit her?"

Grace's shock quickly transformed back into rage. She peered around her mother, her face contorted with hatred.

"She's nothing but a whore! She's completely bewitched you, making you forget Isabella! Trash! Trash! Trash! I'll call her that in front of all of New York City if I have to!"

The murderous look that flashed in Henry's eyes made even the security guards tense up.

"Care to say that again?" His voice had dropped to a whisper that somehow seemed more terrifying than his shouts.

Catherine noticed the anger in her son's eyes and quickly intervened.

"Henry, Grace is young. We'll teach her gradually—she'll improve. You're siblings. Don't let something like this damage your relationship." She lowered her voice, adding, "Sophia clearly wants a divorce. A shameless woman like her—just let her go. Don't let her affect the Harding business."

Henry took a deep breath, visibly struggling to contain his fury.

"My affairs don't require your concern, Mother. Perhaps you should focus on teaching Grace some manners. Her behavior today is indistinguishable from a common street brawler. If you're unwilling to discipline her, I can find someone who will." His eyes narrowed. "Though they'll certainly be stricter than you."

Catherine fell silent, recognizing the threat.

Just as the confrontation seemed to be winding down, she couldn't resist one final jab.

"Henry, the child isn't yours. Why are you accepting responsibility for another man's mistake?"

The question hung in the air, unanswerable.

From the day Sophia had entered the Harding household, Henry had known Billy wasn't his biological child. This knowledge had been the foundation of his coldness toward the boy.

In truth, Henry had never really looked at Billy.

Throughout six years, Sophia had raised him alone while Henry remained a distant figure.

In his mind, he'd already been generous—marrying Sophia, giving her and her child legitimacy, protecting them from public ridicule. He'd considered his duty fulfilled.

It wasn't until Sophia demanded a divorce that he truly began to notice Billy.

The child was undeniably adorable and handsome—those thick eyebrows, large eyes, high-bridged nose, and naturally curly hair. The more Henry looked at him, the more he saw reflections of his own childhood self.

Despite knowing there was no blood connection, he found himself secretly watching the boy, caring for him when Sophia wasn't around, awkwardly attempting to fill the father role he'd never embraced.

Perhaps this explained why hearing Catherine and Grace call Billy a bastard had ignited such rage within him.

"Grace, you will reflect on your behavior today," Henry said coldly before turning and walking away.

What should have been a joyous birthday celebration had devolved into a family spectacle. The extended family members would undoubtedly gossip for months. What a miserable day this had turned out to be.

In the car, Henry leaned back against the leather seat, exhaustion evident on his face.

"Where is she?" he asked his driver.

"We've already taken Mrs. Harding back to Maple Grove, sir."

Satisfied with this answer, Henry nodded and closed his eyes, attempting to rest. But his mind kept replaying Sophia's determined expression as she demanded a divorce.

This memory hit his heart like tiny hammers, persistent and painful.

He loosened his tie, feeling constricted. Reaching for the medical kit kept in the back seat, he retrieved a prescription bottle and shook two pills into his palm.

Without water, he tossed them into his mouth and swallowed.

His heart condition was severe—terminal, in fact. Only a heart transplant could save him. Despite the Harding family's wealth and power, they'd been unable to find a suitable match. There had been a time when he'd lain in the ICU, dependent on a ventilator, certain death was imminent. Then, unexpectedly, he'd been rushed into surgery. The procedure had been successful.

Sophia had cared for him devotedly, from the moment he entered surgery until his complete recovery. During these six years, her attentive care had kept his heart functioning perfectly, without pain or complications.

She'd prepared countless medicinal broths and tonics, dedicated to maintaining his health. Her exceptional care had allowed him to present himself to the world as a completely healthy man.

No one knew how close he'd come to death six years ago. But now, for the first time in years, his heart ached again—as if its original owner was punishing him through physical pain for his transgressions.

Henry leaned back, one hand pressed against his chest, the other massaging his temple as his thoughts raced.

In truth, divorce had never crossed his mind.

Sophia's gentleness and attentiveness had created a warm harbor, giving him a sense of home he'd never experienced before. Silently, he admitted to himself: If Sophia would just yield, stop mentioning divorce, I could forgive everything.

The car soon arrived at Maple Grove. Henry stepped out unsteadily, one hand still pressed against his aching chest as he made his way toward the second floor.

He couldn't face Sophia now. He needed to wait until her stubborn resistance broke, until she surrendered completely. Only then would he see her.

In the basement, Sophia looked nothing like the elegant woman from the banquet hall.

Her hair was disheveled, her makeup smeared with tears, eyeshadow spreading across her skin. One false eyelash hung partially attached while the other dangled on her cheek. Mascara circles surrounded her eyes.

Her purple evening gown was wrinkled and dirty, making her look like she'd crawled out of hell itself—utterly disheveled.

After the security guards had thrown her into the basement, they'd locked the door from outside. No matter how she shouted or cursed, no one came to open it.

The old Sophia had been reasonable and considerate, never using her authority as Mrs. Harding to order the staff around. Partly because Catherine and Grace had instructed the servants how to treat her, and partly because she naturally disliked inconveniencing others.

But now, having completely severed ties with Henry, why not exercise the powers of Mrs. Harding while she still could?

"I'm hungry! Bring me something to eat!" Sophia pounded on the door when they ignored her.

"Henry only ordered you to lock me up, not starve me. If anything happens to me, he'll hold you responsible!" She paused for effect. "Don't forget—I'm still Mrs. Harding!"

The security team hesitated, and Sophia seized the opportunity, rattling off a list of extremely expensive dishes.

Damn it, she thought. After enduring this for so many years, I won't take it anymore.

If Henry refused to let her leave, she'd order lavish meals every day, eating away at that bastard's entire fortune one exorbitant dish at a time.