HIS REGRET (Ex-Husband wants Me Back) novel Chapter 203

**Shadows of the Past – By Emma Clarke**
**Chapter 203**

“Where in the world are we being taken?” Daven muttered under his breath, his gaze locked onto the winding road stretching out before them. The vehicle seemed to drift further away from the vibrant heart of the city, and unease began to creep into his thoughts. SunCity wasn’t a sprawling metropolis; it was compact, easily navigable. It paled in comparison to Mighatan, the true capital of the nation and its bustling economic center.

“I’ve already instructed the apartment staff to ensure your coffee supply is fully stocked, Mr. Daven.”

Arsen’s unexpected comment snapped Daven from his reverie. He turned slightly to meet Arsen’s gaze, and in that brief moment, an unspoken understanding passed between them. Something was amiss about this meeting. Yet, both men knew they could not afford to act impulsively. One misstep could lead them into a trap—or worse, render them utterly powerless.

“Thank you,” Daven replied, striving to maintain an air of nonchalance. But even as he spoke, he could sense the weight of scrutiny upon them, a feeling that prickled at the back of his neck.

After what felt like an eternity of navigating through the dense woods, the car finally decelerated, coming to a halt. Daven’s expectations were shattered as he took in the sight before him: a sleek, modern lodge, stark and solitary amidst the towering pines. It stood apart from the lively chaos of SunCity, enveloped in an eerie tranquility that felt almost too serene.

The scene evoked memories of his family’s own vacation retreats, those idyllic getaways where they would gather to unwind and share laughter over meals. His family had chosen those properties for their breathtaking views, even if they were miles away from the Callister estate.

“This way, Mr. Daven.”

A staff member, bowing slightly, opened the car door with a respectful gesture.

Daven stepped out, adjusting his blazer with a practiced ease, his keen eyes scanning the surroundings. The towering pines loomed over the property, enclosing it like sentinels, the only access being the winding road they had just traversed. A handful of vehicles had passed them along the way, but this region felt desolate, almost abandoned.

“Let’s see what Harold has in store for us,” Daven mused, striding forward with deliberate confidence. Arsen and Andy trailed closely behind, their tension palpable, Andy already steeling himself for whatever lay ahead.

As they approached the lodge, a man emerged from within, his smile overly effusive, almost too welcoming. “Welcome, Mr. Daven. Please, come in. Mr. Harold is eagerly awaiting your arrival.”

Daven offered only the slightest nod, his eyes sweeping over the grounds—the expansive, nearly empty parking lot, the endless sea of pines, and the unsettling stillness that enveloped them.

Arsen leaned in, his voice barely above a whisper, yet his demeanor remained composed. “Mr. Daven, this place is far too remote. If things go south, escaping won’t be straightforward.”

A faint, almost sardonic smile played on Daven’s lips. “No need to fret. Just remind Andy to stay vigilant.”

Arsen swallowed hard, bewildered by Daven’s calm demeanor. How could he be so composed? If he were honest with himself, they had never faced a situation this intimidating. An unsettling feeling gnawed at him; whatever negotiation Harold sought wouldn’t be a matter of choice.

“Ah, Mr. Daven!” Harold boomed, his voice overly bright, almost jarring. “I’m absolutely delighted that we could finally meet in a setting far more… relaxed.” He extended a plump hand in greeting.

Daven stood tall, his posture unyielding. He grasped Harold’s hand with visible reluctance, his eyes scrutinizing every movement. “Relaxed?” he replied, a thin smile gracing his lips. “I would describe this as isolated—a perfect venue for conversations meant to remain unheard.”

Harold chuckled, clapping Daven’s shoulder with an ease that felt disingenuous, as if they were old friends. “You have a knack for humor. There’s no need for suspicion, I assure you. I simply prefer to converse in places like this—far more private. Come, have a seat. Let’s keep this cordial.”

Daven followed Harold into what appeared to be a private meeting room. At its center stood a long mahogany table, surrounded by neatly arranged black leather chairs. A modern light fixture hung overhead, casting a warm glow that starkly contrasted with the taut atmosphere that enveloped them.

But what truly captured attention was the far wall—an expansive sheet of thick glass that overlooked the pine forest beyond. The trees stood tall and unwavering, like silent sentinels, while the late afternoon sun filtered through the dense foliage, scattering soft reflections across the polished wooden floor.

On the surface, the room exuded an air of tranquility, as if inviting anyone to sit down, sip a cup of coffee, and succumb to the surrounding quiet. Yet to Daven, the beauty felt deceptive. Too calm. Too meticulously arranged. It was as if the entire setting was a trap, designed to lull him into a false sense of security.

Harold raised his hand in a genial wave, eager to project warmth. “Look around—doesn’t this view soothe you? No city clamor, no intrusive media eyes. Just us… and the pines.”

Daven cast a glance through the glass wall before turning back, a faint smile still lingering on his lips. “Calm, yes. But sometimes, calm merely conceals a brewing storm.”