I Want a Divorce by Nadia Gordon

Chapter 45

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Chapter 45

The manor was brightly lit at night. After dinner, the guests were led to their

abode situated behind the manor. Legend had it that this was a castle that

was passed down for generations, but the lackluster management and

declining state of the family eventually forced the family to sell off this estate.

The castle was then refurbished and expanded into a hotel. The entrance

was held up by a few gigantic pillars with immaculate patterns engraved on

them. The first thing the guests saw was a row of wooden fences and the

clocktower standing atop the brownish-red roof. There was a grass field

outside the entrance, surrounded by roses and vines. It looked exotic,

romantic, and solemn at the same time.

Luna stopped and looked around. She then turned back and whispered to

Abigail, “The renovation must’ve cost at least a few dozen million.”

“I heard the Grahams bought this place. The Stewarts partnered up with

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them to run the show, but this place wasn’t open to the public previously.”

“No wonder I haven’t seen this beauty before. Did they acquire it just for this

show?”

Abigail and Luna heard sounds of discussion coming from behind before

they even opened the door. The models were whispering to one another,

praising the spectacle of a place.

Luna and Abigail entered the room the production team had arranged for

them. Everyone else shared regular rooms, but since they were special

guests, the production team had prepared a suite for them. The suite was

located on the top floor of the castle, and there were only three of them in

the whole corridor. The other two were locked.

“We can’t be the only ones on this floor, can we?” Luna stared at the dim

corridor, her jaw dropping. She was starting to imagine ghosts grabbing her.

Sp ooky castles. Yeah, this is 100% a horror movie set.

“Maybe everyone else is out?” Abigail shrugged. It had been a long day, and

she just wanted to rest. She had no time to care about anything else.

There were two bedrooms in the suite, and the bedding products all came

from Simmons Bedding Company. They were all made of silk. There was a

tearoom and a bathroom in the middle of the suite, and the fridge was filled

with all kinds of drinks.

Luna happily locked the door and tossed her luggage to the side, then she

sank into the plump couch. “Hey, I heard the girls. This place belongs to that

filthy rich husband of yours?” Luna looked around the resplendent room and

touched the oil painting above the couch.

“No idea. He never tells me about his business.” Abigail unpacked the

luggage. They had to stay here for a while, after all. She dismissively

answered, “We’re getting divorced soon anyway. Not like this place has

anything to do with me.”

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Luna sank deeper into the couch, sighing in enjoyment. She muttered, “Yeah, I

know, but this is shared property if its lease is renewed during your marriage.

I can’t believe you can turn a blind eye when he’s using your money to spend

on Joan.”

“So? What’s not mine can never be mine. Come on, get ready to sleep.

Shooting starts tomorrow.” Abigail gave her friend a resigned look, but she

helped lay out the bed for her.

The ladies washed themselves up and went to the living room, sorting out

the things they might need for the shooting the next day. Just then, they

heard the ding of the elevator coming from the far end of the corridor.

The sound of heels clacking against the wooden floorboard was grating,

especially at night. Before Luna could even check out who the person was,

they had gone into their room and closed the door. “They’re late. Maybe

they’re up to some hanky panky.” Luna crouched in front of the peephole to

check who it was, but she heard nothing.

“It’s probably a crew member. Stop messing around. There are cameras

everywhere, and if they catch you doing something you shouldn’t, you’re

getting canceled.” Abigail didn’t bother to find out who the guest was and

sorted out the final file, then she dragged Luna back to their bedroom.

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I Want a Divorce by Nadia Gordon

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