All Chapters of EX-HUSBAND’S REGRET(The Wife He Discarded): Chapter 151 - Chapter 160

Hayes was the first to break the silence.“How do you know about all these?”It was the perfect question.Dominic didn’t hesitate.“Because John told me.”Every sound inside the office disappeared.I stared at him.John…Told him?Hayes’ expression hardened immediately.“…Where is John?”Dominic didn’t answer.Not right away.Instead…He looked at me.His gaze lingered for only a second before he finally spoke.“Safe.”One word.Just one.But somehow…It created ten more questions.Hayes took a step forward.“You kidnapped him?”Dominic finally looked at him.“No.”His voice remained infuriatingly calm.“I’m making sure he doesn’t run away.”The tension inside the office became suffocating.Pierce frowned.“How did you even know about any of this?”He looked directly at Dominic.“How did you know you were supposed to trace John?”Dominic didn’t answer him.He looked at me instead.Every pair of eyes followed his.My throat suddenly felt dry.I swallowed.“…I called him.”The words cam

The dry wipe remained suspended between us.I looked at it.Then at him.He was tall, broad-shouldered, with dark hair that looked deliberately messy and striking gray eyes that seemed to notice far too much.A face that carried quiet confidence, as though nothing around him ever rattled him.I looked away and turned to the bartender instead.“Where’s your bathroom?”The bartender blinked, clearly caught between looking at me and the man still holding out the wipe.“Oh—it’s just down the hallway on your left, Ma’am.”He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.“And… I’m sorry. I should’ve told you to sip it instead of taking it all at once.”I shrugged, my throat still burning.“I would’ve drunk it the same way regardless.”His lips parted like he wanted to argue.He didn’t.I stepped away without another word and without looking at the man again.The bathroom was as elegant as the rest of the place.Soft lighting.Marble countertops.Everything smelled faintly of cedar and vanilla.I s

I didn’t remember getting home.The last thing I remembered…Whiskey.Hayes.Dominic standing at the entrance.Then…Nothing.My eyes fluttered open.Sunlight slipped through the curtains, spilling across the room.I frowned.Why did my head feel like someone had split it open?I slowly pushed myself upright.Bad idea.The room tilted violently.A wave of nausea crashed into me.“Oh…”I clamped a hand over my mouth and stumbled off the bed.Barely making it to the bathroom before I threw up.The burning in my throat was almost as bad as the pounding in my head.I gripped the edge of the sink.Breathed.Then threw up again.“…Fuck.”When my stomach finally settled, I turned on the faucet and splashed cold water across my face.Again.And again.I stared at my reflection.I looked horrible.Mascara smudged all over my face.My hair looked like I’d fought a hurricane.Dark circles still lived beneath my eyes.My temples throbbed relentlessly.Never again.I was never drinking like that a

The lights were still bright.People hadn’t settled yet.Conversations floated through the hall while photographers moved from one front-row guest to another, calling names every few seconds.“Aurelia.”“This way.”“One picture.”Camera flashes bounced across the room.I barely looked up.The venue looked exactly the way I’d imagined it months ago.Long white runway.Black seating stretching down both sides.Floor-to-ceiling LED walls waiting to come alive.Everything polished.Everything perfect.The front row slowly filled.Fashion editors.Luxury buyers.Magazine publishers.Actors.Football stars.Music artists.Influencers dressed like they were walking the runway themselves.I recognized almost every face.Damien Laurent.The French actor every luxury brand wanted.Valentina Cruz.Singer.Global ambassador for three different fashion houses.Marco DeLuca.Captain of AC Milano.One of the biggest football names in Europe.Celeste Monroe.Fashion critic.Her reviews could build a

The music shifted.The lights softened until only the entrance remained illuminated.Then Camille stepped out.For a brief second…The room forgot to breathe.She wasn’t wearing a gown.Not entirely.She wore a structured champagne-colored dress that hugged her waist before falling into clean, sculpted folds. Delicate crystal embroidery traced one shoulder and disappeared down the side of the skirt, catching the light without overwhelming the design.The silhouette was elegant.Confident.A sheer overskirt drifted behind her like a trail of soft mist, moving a heartbeat after every step she took.Silver heels lifted her posture even higher.A miniature pearl-white handbag rested naturally in her hand, its curved shape unmistakably AURELIA.She didn’t rush.She didn’t hesitate.She walked as though she’d belonged on a runway her entire life.A murmur spread through the audience.“…Who’s that?”“I haven’t seen her before.”“New face.”Camera shutters erupted almost immediately.Photogra