All Chapters of The Wife He Threw Away : Chapter 191 - Chapter 200

Claire Moreau had become difficult to contain. That was the thought running through my head as I stood before the windows of my penthouse, watching the city glitter beneath the afternoon sun. For the first time in weeks, I had reason to feel relieved. Nathaniel Vale had dropped Lucian Dhark as a client. The news had spread quickly through every major legal and financial publication in the country. KVEK was out. That was what mattered. Nathaniel had always been one of the most dangerous piece on the board. Not because he was ruthless, but because he was competent. Ethical men were irritatingly difficult to manipulate. They followed rules, they trusted evidence. And once they decided you were guilty, they pursued you with frightening determination. Nathaniel Vale had decided that about me months ago. Now he was gone. I should have felt safer. Instead, all I could think about was Claire. And of course, Margot Sinclair. Two women who had simply refused to st

Work had always been easier than emotions. Because contracts made sense. Litigation made sense. People, most of the time, made sense. Heartbreak did not. Which was why, barely two weeks after I ended things with Claire Moreau, I found myself sitting behind my desk at eight-thirty in the morning, buried beneath a mountain of case files. I wasn’t actually reading any of them. I’d been staring at the same paragraph for nearly five minutes when a sharp knock sounded against my office door. Before I could answer, the door opened, and Victoria Merlyn walked in. A frown automatically formed on my face. “You’re smiling.” I remarked. “That’s strange.” “And you’re sulking.” Victoria bit back. Victoria rolled her eyes. “I’m serious.” I said, as I leaned back in my chair. “You only smile when something terrible happens to somebody.” Victoria scoffed. “That’s not true.” “It absolutely is.” She sat down across from me. “I smiled when Mark spilled coffee on himself yest

The hospital smelled like antiseptic and exhaustion. I hated hospitals. Not just because they reminded me of death, but because they reminded me of helplessness. There was nothing a man could negotiate with inside these walls. No boardroom, no shareholders, no contracts. No amount of money that could guarantee the people you cared about would walk out alive. I found Claire sitting outside Nathaniel’s room. She looked exhausted— her hair was pulled back carelessly. Dark circles shadowed her eyes. She looked up when she saw me and for a second, something softened in her expression. Relief. Then it disappeared again. “He’s awake,” she said quietly. I nodded. “How is he?” “He’s been better, but he’ll recover.” She said. The answer should have reassured me. It didn’t. Because once again, Claire looked like she had spent the entire night carrying the weight of someone else’s suffering. I glanced toward the room. “Can I see him?” Claire hesitated befor

I pushed through the hospital room door and found Margot sitting upright in the bed, her laptop balanced across her legs and several papers scattered over the blanket. The first thing I noticed was just how furious she looked. Not worried. Not frightened. Furious. Which, somehow, frightened me more. Professor Mason Grant stood nearby with his arms folded. His expression wasn’t much better. Something was wrong— something was very wrong. My stomach tightened immediately. “What happened?” I asked. Margot looked up. “Dr. Ramon is missing.” The words landed like a stone in my chest. “What?” I shouted before I could stop myself. “He didn’t show up for his scheduled interview yesterday.” She said, her voice clipped yet dangerously controlled. “The medical board couldn’t reach him. His attorney couldn’t reach him. His staff haven’t seen him since the day before yesterday.” I stared at her with wide eyes. “No.” Margot nodded once. “That’s what I said.” A hor

I had faced hostile investors more times than I could count. Hostile boards, hostile acquisitions. One time, I had spent fourteen straight hours negotiating a merger that would have collapsed Dhark Holdings if it failed, and I had emerged victorious. But none of that felt comparable to standing backstage, waiting and preparing for a press conference that could either save my company or finish destroying it. The conference hall beyond the curtains sounded like a storm. I could hear numerous voices, clashing over each other. Cameras, reporters, producers. The constant movement of people preparing to get insight on what half the country was already calling the biggest corporate scandal of the year. Tessa stood beside me with a tablet. My legal counsel and an external PR agent were standing close, reviewing final notes with immense focus. The PR director on the other hand, looked seconds away from a nervous breakdown. “Do not speculate,” he reminded me for what was prob