The butler returned with a whip. He approached York but hesitated to strike. "Young Master, just apologize to the Old Master. Say something to appease him."
York glanced at Claudia, gently pushed her aside, and then knelt before his grandfather.
"Strike him," Sewell commanded. "Strike him until he yields."
With Sewell's order, the butler had no choice but to raise the whip.
Claudia looked away.
In the silent living room, the sharp crack of the whip against flesh echoed, punctuated by York's muffled grunts of pain.
After a few lashes, Wendy couldn't bear it any longer, sobbing, "Dad, you can't hit him anymore!"
Claudia, who had been silent, seized the opportunity. "Grandpa, if you want me to quit my job so I don't embarrass the Ferguson family, I have an idea."
If she could get the old man to grant her a divorce from York, it would be for the best.
The butler quickly stepped back with the whip.
Claudia's gaze fell on the raw, bloody welts on York's back. "If you would agree to let me divorce your grandson, then I—"
"Claudia!" Before she could finish, York grabbed her wrist, his voice low and sharp, cutting her off.
Old Mr. Ferguson's shrewd eyes darted between Claudia and York. "You two want a divorce?"
"No, Grandpa, we don't," York said quickly.

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