They had treated him like a son, and while they couldn't always help with his problems, they had never stopped worrying about him.
Even recently, when Claudia was demanding a divorce, her parents would still cook for him and ask about his work when he visited.
This was the first time he had ever felt such coldness and distance from them.
Back in his car, York called his assistant, Mark, and instructed him to find out Claudia's itinerary over the past few days and her current location.
Late that night, on the third floor of The Imperial Club.
When Peter pushed open the door to the private room, York was already passed out on the sofa.
He walked over to York and checked for his breath. York swatted his hand away, and only then did Peter feel relieved enough to sit down across from him.
York sat up, rubbing his temples wearily.
Peter dropped his usual playful demeanor. "I just came from your place. I checked for you; Ann James and her son are gone. You're in a terrible state. You should go home and get some sleep. We can deal with this tomorrow. Claudia just went abroad; it's not like she flew to the moon."
York didn't speak, just poured himself another drink.
Peter had tried to hold his tongue, but he couldn't anymore. "York, to get this divorce, Claudia sold her mother's heirloom jewelry, redecorated your home to personally invite Ann James and her son to move in, and even gave Ann her wedding ring. What do you think that means?"
York's head was bowed, looking utterly defeated and exhausted.
Peter continued, "It means Claudia isn't just throwing a tantrum. She genuinely wants to divorce you."
"She doesn't." York's tone was certain. "She's just furious. She brought Ann and her son into our home and gave Ann the ring to deliberately provoke me, to force me to make a choice."
Peter could only stare at York, his face a picture of exasperation. He was left utterly speechless for a long moment.


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