"Joshua Thompson is my friend."
"Friend?" He glanced at her, raising his brows with a cold expression. "I didn't expect you to associate with someone like Joshua Thompson."
Joshua Thompson's reputation as a womanizer preceded him. If he weren't the third son of the Thompson family, he'd probably have no friends at all.
"What's wrong with him?" Molly Walker shot back, her eyes narrowing with mockery. "How much better are you, Mr. Gallagher?"
Joshua Thompson was her ally. Even if he was unreliable, at least he was on her side. Michael Gallagher, on the other hand, kept urging her to give up, time and time again.
The more she compared them, the more defensive she became of Joshua Thompson. Her words revealed her bias: "Please, Mr. Gallagher, stop talking about my friend like that."
Michael Gallagher's eyes darkened, anger flaring in his intense gaze. "Do you even know what you're saying?"
Recalling Joshua Thompson's remark that "women are like clothes," his expression turned icy. "Thompson is used to playing around. You can't control him."
"What does that have to do with me? If he offers me an olive branch, should I refuse?"
Molly laughed, as if it were only natural.
Her husband wasn't on her side, so why would she push away someone who showed her support?
Michael Gallagher's face grew colder at her words, an ice wall seeming to rise around him, dropping the temperature in the room.
"Do you really like Joshua Thompson that much?"
He knew he shouldn't be angry.
It would be one thing if she were interested in a normal, ordinary guy, but what about Joshua Thompson? He had played with so many women he couldn't count them all on two hands.
With her personality, once she was married into the Thompson family, she probably wouldn't last a year.
"Do you think the Thompson family is the same as the Gallagher family? Can Joshua Thompson really protect you? Molly, you're still young. Don't casually throw away your future."
Molly's heart trembled, and she looked up with a light laugh. "How else could I throw it away? Haven't I already thrown away my marriage to you?"
Michael Gallagher stared at her, his lips pressed together in silence.
After a moment, he spoke again, his voice softer.
"After the divorce, I'll leave the villa to you."
Molly was slightly taken aback.
"You've lived there for several years, and even after the divorce, we'll still be friends..."
"No. thanks." Molly clenched her coffee spoon, stirring it aimlessly in her cup. "Let's not keep in touch after the divorce. I don't need the villa."
Michael Gallagher's Adam's apple moved, his pupils dark and profound.
She was the one who had drafted the agreement that day, clearly unwilling to maintain any relationship with him. In that agreement, she had left herself with almost nothing.
"Michael!"
At some point, Isabelle Richardson had arrived, her voice neither too loud nor too quiet—just enough to interrupt their thoughts.
"It's only fair she doesn't want the villa. Someone who cheats during their marriage should leave with nothing." Isabelle's tone was condescending, her words sharp and direct.
The thought of Michael secretly leaving the villa to Molly filled Isabelle with anger, making her heart ache.
Why should a cheating woman get anything from the Gallagher family's property?
Isabelle's arrival made Molly's eyelids twitch, especially when infidelity was mentioned. Her face went numb.
When had she ever been unfaithful during her marriage?
She recalled Michael asking if she had someone she liked when she proposed the divorce, to which she had answered yes.
Unexpectedly, Michael Gallagher had shared even such intimate details with Isabelle Richardson. She had truly captured his heart.
"If we're really discussing infidelity during marriage, who can be a match to Mr. Gallagher?" Molly observed with keen interest as Isabelle's face flushed red, then turned pale.
Her own "infidelity" lacked evidence, but Michael Gallagher's cheating was well-known throughout the city.
"I'm curious, Miss Richardson. What have you gained from being his mistress all these years?"
At these words, Isabelle's face twisted in anger.
Molly laughed heartily. Though she couldn't confront Isabelle directly at the moment, she could still say things that would get under her skin.
The crowd of onlookers grew larger, some of them holding cameras—clearly reporters.
She had noticed them earlier. They had come with Isabelle.
Isabelle raised her chin slightly, exuding confidence and arrogance. "Miss Walker, actually, when Michael married you, he and I were already together. You were the one who interfered with our relationship. You're the real mistress!"
Under Isabelle's prompting glance, the waiting reporters finally swarmed in.
"Miss Walker, Miss Richardson claims you are the mistress. Is that true?"
"Are you already divorced from Mr. Gallagher?"
...
Microphones crowded around her, and the surging crowd nearly knocked Molly Walker off balance.
At that moment, a hand blocked all the microphones.
It was Michael Gallagher stepping in.
"Mr. Gallagher!" The reporters looked somewhat embarrassed.
Michael Gallagher's slender figure and handsome face, resembling a finely carved sculpture, appeared even colder under the sunlight.
Such a dazzling man couldn't be overlooked, yet they had chosen to listen to Isabelle Richardson and direct all their questions at Molly.
His presence now was like fireworks on a cold winter's day, igniting excitement among the crowd.
"Mr. Gallagher, is it true that Miss Walker is mistress?"
Someone asked, and the scene suddenly fell silent.
Everyone was waiting for Michael Gallagher's answer.
Molly was waiting too.
If Michael admitted she was mistress, she would bear that bad reputation forever. If he denied it, the scorn would shift to Isabelle Richardson.
Even though she anticipated the answer, she still wanted to see if he would stand up for her publicly.
Michael Gallagher stood there like a pine tree, his deep eyes fixed on her, holding emotions she couldn't decipher.
His indifferent demeanor made her heart drop.
"Dear reporters, do you really need to ask this question? How long have I known Michael? Don't you all know?" Isabelle Richardson smiled sweetly, her innocence instantly endearing her to the crowd.
Her playful and intimate tone quickly closed the distance between her and the reporters.
The reporters suddenly realized what was happening.
True, who knew Molly Walker before the hidden marriage scandal broke? But Mr. Gallagher and Miss Richardson had known each other for many years, and they were the national couple in many people's hearts.
How could Isabelle Richardson be mistress? In terms of history, it was Molly Walker who had suddenly appeared and looked more like the interloper.
The reporters' gazes toward Molly Walker shifted.
"Miss Walker, why would someone like you become someone else's mistress?"
"I heard her family is poor, and she married Mr. Gallagher by any means necessary. What else could it be for? Money, of course!"
...
Accusations flew like knives, and Molly Walker lowered her head, laughing bitterly at her own wishful thinking and expectations of someone.
"I was the one who proposed."
Michael Gallagher finally spoke, his voice pleasant yet cold, like a torrent washing away her embarrassment.
Molly's nose tinged with the familiar sting of tears.
She did care about her reputation and longed to hear him personally affirm that she was not mistress.
A small smile lifted her lips.
This man had finally spoken up for her in public.
Michael Gallagher added, "We were in a contractual marriage."
A contractual marriage held no feelings and offered no hierarchy of emotions.
With those words, Michael Gallagher took full responsibility upon himself.
The reporters could only shift the topic back to Molly Walker.
"Then, Miss Walker, will you give Mr. Gallagher and Miss Richardson your blessing?"
Blessing...
Molly laughed bitterly.
Did these people also think she should make way for that woman?