Unwanted Wife's Ultimate Vengeance
ss cycle of meetings, phone calls, and damage control, trying to salvage the Cygnus deal. He didn't hear from Cassie,
open. Cassie, adorned in another extravagant dress, her eyes sparkling with something wild, stumbled in, a trium
ctly to Edwardo's side, ignoring everyone else. "Edwardo! There you are! I've
a business meeting. Please, leave." He tried to keep his
want me to leave? While you're flirting with other women?" She pointed a
mply raised an eyebrow. The other investors exchanged
ed, grabbing her arm and trying to st
with her? You don't love me anymore! Fine! I'm leaving! We're over! Do you hear me?
r was thick with embarrassment. The investors, their
filled with a quiet disappointment. "Mr. Steele, we appreciate your time. But we invest in stability. In clear leadership. This... specta
watched as the investors politely but firmly excused themselves, leaving him alon
dn't felt in years. He dialed Cassie's number. It rang once, twice. Straight to voicemail. He
into the phone to his assistant.
her down to a high-end club, a place notorious for its wild parties. Ed
sie. On the dance floor, grinding against a burly stranger, her head thrown back in laughter, her arms wrapped around
after all his efforts to protect her, ignited a firestorm within him. This was not the fri
assie' s arm with bruising force, yanking her away from the strang
arm away. "Edwardo! You're ruining my fun! And
voice barely audible above the din. "Yo
u don't care about me! You're always working! You're always flirting with other women!" She
devoid of any true emotion, only petulant anger. He saw the calculation b
of her drama, her demands, her endless need for attention. He was tire
his voice flat, devoid of emo
'm sorry! I was just jealous! I was just trying to make you pay attention to
h churning with revulsion. "Do
the dance floor. The loud music, the flashing lights, the stench of alco
e lit a cigarette, something he rarely did, and took a deep drag, the smoke
hoed again. He had been so blind.
arp intellect, her calm resolve in the face of his threats. She had never thrown a tantrum. She had never public
onted him. She hadn't screamed. She hadn't cried hysterically. She had simply stated her terms, clearly
o do with a profound, terrifying regret. He had been so wrong. So utterly, tragically wrong. He had pus
n, overwhelming urge to go home. Not to his sterile, empty penthouse, but to the house he shared, or used to share, with Blair. T
oring over documents, her brow furrowed in concentration. Or maybe she'd be in the kitchen, preparing one of her healthy, simple meals. He
eft. He sped through the night, chasing a phantom, a memor