Chapter 10
Julian and Chloe froze, their expressions stunned.
Julian was the first to react. “What are you doing?”
+25 BONUS
Chloe looked equally baffled.
I casually waved the photo I’d just taken. “Evidence. Proof of your Infidelity, Mr. Moore. Feel free to continue flaunting your affection in front of me, but don’t blame me if I record it all and use it against you.”
Realizing the impropriety of his actions, Julian hastily pulled his hand away from Chloe’s.
Chloe’s face flushed with embarrassment as she stammered. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean anything by it. I was just trying to calm Julian down. It wasn’t intentional.”
Her voice quivered, and her teary–eyed expression was as pitiful as ever, clearly designed to draw sympathy.
Feeling disgusted, I turned away.
That performance was truly nauseating.
And, as expected, Julian fell for it. He immediately placed a steadying hand on Chloe’s shoulder and turned to me, bristling with anger. “Evelyn, apologize!”
I let out a cold laugh. “And what exactly am I supposed to apologize for this time? For taking a photo of your little hand–holding moment?”
Julian hesitated, visibly thrown by my retort.
Chloe quickly stepped in, her voice soft and pleading. “Miss White, please don’t be upset. That wasn’t my intention…”
I met her gaze directly, my tone sharp and unwavering. “Miss Clarke, let me be honest with you. I don’t love Julian anymore, and I will divorce him. But I’d appreciate it if you stopped playing these petty little games.”
Chloe frowned slightly, her brows knitting together. “I’m not playing games.”
I smirked, my voice laced with mockery. “Aren’t you? Then why do you insist on addressing me as ‘Miss White‘? Until Julian and I are divorced, I’m still Mrs. Moore. And calling my husband ‘Julian‘ so intimately in front of me? If this were anyone else, you’d have been slapped across the face by now.”
Chloe’s face turned scarlet. Covering it with her hands, she burst into tears and hurried back to the car.
Julian stared at me for a long moment before speaking, his voice laced with disbelief. “What did you just say? You don’t love me anymore? Explain yourself!”
I really didn’t want to engage with this man any further. But for the sake of clarity, I spoke each word deliberately. “I don’t love you anymore, Julian Moore.
“Even if I once loved you so much, now I don’t. Do you understand? I don’t love you anymore.”
The Evelyn White from my eighteen–year–old memories had no love for Julian.
Even if I had been madly in love with him once, his behavior–constantly belittling and disrespecting his wife- had stripped away whatever feelings there might have been
It didn’t matter how successful or exceptional he was; a man like this was poison to me.
While Julian was still reeling, I turned and walked away.
+25 BONUS
Chapter 10
“Evelyn, get back here and explain yourself!” His angry shot echoed behind me.
“What do you mean, you don’t love me? Who have you fallen for, then? In It that Wynn guy?” His tone shifted from suspicion to certainty. “When did you start sneaking round with him? Is it because he’s richer than ine? Better connected?”
I shook off his hand with a sharp glare.
“You’re delusional.:
And then, just to twist the knife, 1 added, “Seriously, you need to see a psychiatrist.”
Julian visibly forced himself to calm down, his tone becoming measured. “Evelyn, what is it that you want?”
“I want a divorce,” 1 said flatly.
“Absolutely not!” His response was firm, almost desperate “Anything but that. Name your price.”
I laughed, cold and hollow.
Julian’s gaze flicked to my bandaged arm. He softened his tone, trying again. “Evelyn, stop making a scene. Let’s go home and talk this out.”
I gestured toward the car, where Chloe was still crying. “Three people in there is too crowded.”
Eof a moment, Julian’s expression faltered, awkwardness creeping into his face.
Julian clenched his jaw, his expression tight as he thought for a moment. Then, with a sigh, he pulled out his phone. “I’ll call a car for you.”
I laughed, sharp and bitter.
The mistress got the car, and the wife went home in a cab?
“Julian, I must have been blind before,” I said, the words cutting like a blade.
Before he could react, I spun around and walked briskly out of the garage.
The longer I stayed there, the more nauseous I felt.
I made it to the corner outside the garage, leaned against the edge of a flowerbed, and threw up violently.
My head buzzed, a dull, persistent hum accompanied by a faint dizziness.
Michael had been right–my head injury wasn’t fully healed. This wasn’t just uncomfortable; it was dangerous.
