HIS REGRET (Ex-Husband wants Me Back) novel Chapter 180

**Shadows of the Past – By Emma Clarke**
**Chapter 180**

Just a few hours earlier, the world had shifted beneath Vanessa’s feet as she clutched her phone, her heart racing.

“This… this can’t be happening,” she breathed, her voice barely above a whisper, trembling with disbelief. Her gaze remained glued to the screen, where Daven’s face loomed, his words echoing in her mind like a relentless swarm of angry bees. Deep down, however, she understood that this was not merely an idle threat; it was a stark reality.

Her husband had made a public declaration—he had filed for divorce. And as if that wasn’t enough, he had exposed the reasons behind it for all to see.

“No,” she murmured, shaking her head in denial, her hair brushing against her cheeks as if to shield her from the truth. “This can’t happen. Whatever Daven said, he can take it back. I can fix this. I won’t let him divorce me.”

Yet, as she stood there, surrounded by a throng of reporters, the harsh truth loomed large—she was trapped in a media frenzy that demanded answers she was not ready to give.

“Is it true you’ve been having an affair with James, your personal assistant?” one reporter shouted, their voice cutting through the chaos like a knife.

“Miss Vanessa, what about the photos circulating online? They appear quite authentic—will you deny them?” another pressed, the urgency in their tone unmistakable.

“You’ve been accused of stealing Daven from his previous marriage with Althea. How do you respond?” a third voice chimed in, relentless and accusatory.

“Mr. Callister just announced he’s filing for divorce. Are you really being left behind?”

“What’s your response to the divorce petition Mr. Daven filed?”

“If the evidence of your affair is valid, doesn’t that mean your marriage has been broken for a long time? Please comment, Miss Vanessa.”

Questions bombarded her from every direction, each one more invasive than the last. Microphones were thrust closer, cameras flashed blindingly, illuminating her face in a harsh glare. The reporters’ voices melded into a chaotic symphony, drowning her in a sea of accusations.

Vanessa squared her shoulders, summoning every ounce of strength within her. She forced a smirk, even as her heart raced and her face quivered with anxiety. “None of that is true! Don’t believe the garbage you saw on that screen. It’s all Althea’s doing—that low-class woman is just jealous of my life!” Her voice, though strained, rose with a sharp edge, desperation masked by a facade of arrogance.

No. She would not be a victim. She would not allow the humiliation of this moment to define her. Vanessa felt a surge of determination; she would retaliate—especially against Althea. If that woman had never entered the picture, she wouldn’t be drowning in this turmoil. Each question hurled at her now was laced with blame, devoid of sympathy—despite the rumors she had meticulously planted to tarnish Althea’s reputation.

“So you’re saying all the evidence is fake?” one reporter pressed, their eyes glinting with the thrill of the story.

The chaos spiraled further out of control, a whirlwind of noise and flashing lights. Vanessa stumbled amidst the crush of bodies, the security team urging her to follow them to a safer location. But she resisted, lashing out at every question, determined to prevent them from twisting her narrative. She couldn’t—wouldn’t—let them script her downfall in tomorrow’s headlines.

“This isn’t the time, Vanessa!” Theo’s glare was sharp, his voice a steel blade cutting through her defiance. “You’ll destroy yourself if you keep running your mouth in front of them. Be quiet and come with me. Now.”

“I won’t be quiet, Dad!” Vanessa shouted back, her eyes welling with tears, the weight of humiliation pressing down on her. “I won’t accept being treated like this by Daven and Althea! They’re humiliating me in front of the entire world!”

“Vanessa!” Theo barked, his voice rising with authority. “Get in the car.”

Her throat burned with defiance, a fierce desire to fight back surging within her. She longed to stay and confront every reporter, to stand her ground until they backed off. She wanted to turn the tide, to rebuild their trust in her. If necessary, she would pay them off—force them to replace every humiliating broadcast with stories that painted Vanessa Blake as the victim.

“Now!”

There was no arguing with Theo. His command left no room for rebellion. At last, she was dragged from the hall, her protests swallowed by the throng of reporters still clamoring after her. The cameras continued to flash, capturing every frantic step of her descent into chaos.