The Ex-husband Wants to Get Power Every Day After the Divorce

Responsible? Responsible for what?

Molly Walker was taken aback. She laughed nervously, “No need for that, we are divorced, aren’t we?”

“The baby needs a father, ” Michael Gallagher remarked surprisingly.

Molly’s heart rate spiked, her lips stiffened, “What?”

She looked like a frightened little rabbit, her pure doe eyes filled with terror, dodging his gaze as if she’d done something guilty.

This was a side of her he seldom saw.

Michael chuckled lightly, suddenly wanting to tease her, “I mean in name.” Could he know?

Molly’s expression froze. In that moment, her mind buzzed with denials. “There are a lot of men who want to be the baby’s father. What difference does one more make?” Michael paused, a smirk on his lips, “Would that be the kind of responsible man you had in mind?”

Despite his sarcastic remarks, Molly didn’t feel anger, but relief instead.

Just as long as he wasn’t trying to take her child away, all else was fine.

“I misspoke earlier. You are quite responsible.” Molly’s smile widened, her red lips vibrant, “Just fulfill your responsibilities to others. We are a thing of the past. Also, the baby won’t have a father in the future.”

Upon hearing this, Michael’s heart felt as though it had been jabbed by a needle.

Molly laughed heartily, but there was no trace of mirth to be seen in her eyes. Her entire being was screaming rejection.

No father? Why won’t the baby have a father?

Could it be that the man in question was neither Harry Lambert nor Jeremy Norman?

Thinking of his mother’s abrupt change in attitude and Molly’s panic from earlier, a possibility popped into mind.

“The baby is mine.” Michael asserted, not a question, but a statement.

Michael’s eyes danced with waves of emotions, his voice shaky, his eyes lit up tremendously.

The baby was his. If not, his mother would not have given all the property to Molly.

Nervousness and excitement filled his chest as a smile formed across his lips.

“Mine… how wonderful.”

“No.” Molly interrupted his fantasy, “Not yours.”

“Not mine?” Michael leaned in, squinting his eyes, suddenly grabbing her wrist, “Then, let’s ask the doctor how many weeks has the baby been, when it was conceived, whether it’s mine or not, we will know by the evidence.”

He was certain. The baby was his, conceived that night.

Hearing that he wanted to take her to the hospital, Molly broke free from him in panic and exclaimed, “Michael Gallagher, don’t push me!”

hearing her hoarse scream, he softened. He let go of her and asked softly, “Why didn’t you tell me you were pregnant?”

What difference would it make if she had told him? What could change?

Isabelle Richardson existed, and grandmother was indeed dead.

Seeing his uncharacteristically happy reaction, she drooped her lashes, and her nose turned sour.

If it weren’t for Isabelle Richardson’s interference, if her grandmother was still alive, they would be eagerly anticipating the arrival of this child together. This child would be living in a family free from hatred and plots.

Alas, there were no ‘what ifs’.

Since the moment they divorced, the baby no longer had a father.

She had been naive once, she couldn’t afford to be foolish a second time.

She bit her tongue hard, the pain bringing her back from her thoughts. She looked up, a cold chuckle escaping her lips, “Don’t flatter yourself.” That froze the smile on Michael’s face.

Her words, like a blade carelessly swung, sliced through the silence and stabbed him in the heart.

Molly looked at him sideways, her tone ice-cold and sarcastic, “You and Isabelle Richardson conspired to kill my grandmother. You’re my enemy, why would I have my enemy’s child?”

A thin smile surfaced on her beautiful face. In her dark eyes, there was no sign of emotion. Her gaze was indifferent and distant.

Michael was focused on her every move, but found her eyes were piercing and cold, filled with bone-chilling hatred.

He opened his mouth, took a while to find his voice, “I don’t believe it.”

“Believe it or not, up to you.” Molly coldly retreated a few steps back. She lifted her chin slightly with pride and determination, “If I were truly pregnant with your child, don’t doubt it, I would terminate the pregnancy the moment I found out. I would never let the baby be born.”

At her words, a metaphorical wall of ice suddenly formed around Michael, his eyes ignited with rage.

She would terminate the pregnancy if it was his baby. Did she find him that disgusting?

A deep chuckle escaped Michael’s throat, causing one to shudder.

“I’ve indeed overestimated myself.” His eyes reddened, his anger unrestrained, “Molly, don’t forget, you were the one who cheated first, and you were the one who proposed the divorce first.’

“Grandmother was very good to me. I wouldn’t be so ungrateful as to conspire with outsiders to kill her.”

“Remember what you said today.”

His cold voice trembled slightly, and he was saturated with gloominess.

Molly bit her tongue hard to suppress her tears.

Her heart felt as if it had been ripped open. Cold wind rushed in, icy and painful.

After he walked away, the scorching tears finally cascaded down.

Her stomach was slightly aching.

She covered her chest, took several deep breaths, and inhaled the cold air which triggered bouts of coughing.

“If you can’t bear to do it, then don’t torture yourself.” Joshua Thompson came up to her, sighing deeply, “He’s the baby’s father. Aren’t you afraid the baby will resent you in the future?”

Molly wiped her tears away and shook her head slowly, “Whoever the baby wants to acknowledge as his father in the future, it’s his choice. I won’t intervene. But now is not the right time.”

The revenge for grandmother’s death had not been taken, and the other women around Michael have not departed.

She didn’t want to reminisce on his gentleness, nor did she want to turn back at this moment.

Joshua Thompson nodded and flicked her forehead, “Even if there’s no father, there’s an uncle to protect him.”

A wave of warmth washed over her. Molly laughed through her tears, “I’ll leave him to you in the future, third brother.”

The warm moment between the two of them was observed by someone on the second floor.

Violet Summers stood by the window on the second floor, a chill creeping onto her gentle lips.

Her exceptional hearing allowed her to overhear everything that had just happened.

She had to find out for sure whether Molly’s baby was really Michael’s.

But thankfully Molly and Michael had a deep-seated grudge against each other. Looking at the current situation, it seemed impossible for them to reconcile.

Assured that they wouldn’t be re-marrying, Violet finally relaxed.

As long as they did not remarry, she still had a chance.

The big difference between her and Isabelle was that she was part of the “W” organization. Any wealthy businesses in Sunnydale would want to win her over because of this status.

With the help of the organization, marrying Michael wouldn’t be a difficult task.

Violet Summers’ lips curved up, she was in a good mood.

Remembering how Molly’s phone was immune to intrusion, her brows furrowed.

She took out her cell phone and sent a message: Check out Molly’s background and the origin of the baby in her stomach.

The “W” organization could investigate anyone, no secrets could be kept from them.

Only after verifying Molly’s identity could she feel assured to take the next step..