HIS REGRET (Ex-Husband wants Me Back) novel Chapter 206

**Shadows of the Past – By Emma Clarke**
**Chapter 206**

Suddenly, a flurry of small red dots began to flicker across the uniforms of his guards—laser sights, each one precisely aimed at their chests, their foreheads. One by one, the men became statues, their bodies rigid as the realization washed over them: they were marked, ensnared under the weight of unseen crosshairs.

“Well, that certainly clears things up,” Arsen chuckled, a hint of mockery lacing his voice. “You might want to reconsider your grip on me, my friend.” With a sudden surge of strength, he wrenched himself free from the hold that had confined him. “You see it now, don’t you? One wrong move, and those shots won’t just take out a hand. They’ll strike exactly where those little red dots are aimed.”

Harold’s jaw tightened, his face reddening with a fury that barely concealed the fear lurking in his eyes. “You… you orchestrated this?” he stammered, disbelief mingling with anger.

Daven advanced deliberately, his eyes gleaming with an unsettling sharpness, reminiscent of a blade catching the light. “I didn’t orchestrate anything,” he replied, his tone calm yet edged with an intensity that made the air around them crackle. “Help comes to me because I approach business with integrity, not malice.”

Now, Daven stood directly in front of Harold, their eyes locked in a battle of wills. His presence loomed large, intimidating, and his voice dripped with disdain. “I merely wanted to test your limits. Turns out, they’re quite shallow. Remember this, Harold—you may wear a title, but never think you can manipulate me with these pathetic tricks.”

Harold had no retort. A bead of cold sweat trickled down his temple, a testament to his rising panic.

With a swift motion, Daven snatched the folder of documents that Harold had thrust at him and tossed it back against the man’s chest with a dismissive flick of his wrist. “I have no use for your garbage. You’re not a partner; you’re merely an extortionist masquerading as an official.”

“Don’t get too cocky, Callister. I won’t be taken down that easily,” Harold spat back, his voice laced with an undercurrent of menace.

Daven’s lips curled into a chilling smile, his gaze unyielding. “This is merely the beginning. Mark my words, Harold—I never forget those who attempt to play me for a fool.”

“Mr. Harold!” A desperate voice pierced the tension from behind. “We’ve prepared an escape route for you!”

Seizing the opportunity, Harold pivoted on his heel, adrenaline surging through him as he prepared to flee. “Don’t let anyone follow me!” he barked at the six men who had been encircling Daven.

“You wish,” Arsen growled, his fist connecting squarely with Harold’s jaw. The force sent Harold staggering back, blood seeping from the corner of his mouth. In an instant, Harold’s guards surged forward, positioning themselves protectively between their boss and the incoming blow.

Chaos erupted as Andy joined the fray, and the corridor transformed into a battleground. Fists flew in every direction, bodies collided with a sickening thud, and the cacophony of combat reverberated through the hall like thunder.

“Get Harold!” a voice roared behind Daven, just moments before uniformed officers stormed the building. They surged forward, but Harold’s men met them head-on, creating a barricade of muscle and aggression.

The night air shattered with the crack of gunfire and the urgent shouts of commands. Police orders blared through megaphones, their voices mingling with the sharp reports of warning shots. Searchlights sliced through the darkness, illuminating the surrounding pine forest and the building where Daven stood, a lone figure amidst the turmoil.

“Drop your weapons!” one officer commanded, his voice cutting through the chaos.

Not everyone complied. Some of Harold’s men retaliated with ferocity, charging at the police with reckless abandon. Chairs toppled, glass shattered, and the air was thick with screams that intertwined with the relentless clash of bodies.

Instead of yielding, Harold bolted towards the back exit, flanked by four of his most loyal men. Their footsteps pounded against the wooden floor, fading into the shadows of the pine forest that loomed beyond.

The clash continued inside, two of Harold’s bodyguards fighting like cornered animals, forcing officers to strike harder, their blows resonating with bone-crushing force. The sound of impact reverberated through the air until their massive forms finally collapsed, motionless on the ground.

Meanwhile, Daven and his two most trusted allies were nearing the resort’s main gate, where police cars crowded the entrance and flashing lights cut through the darkness like beacons of safety.

Arsen exhaled in relief, though his expression remained taut. “I can’t believe we made it out of that, Mr. Daven. For a moment, I thought we wouldn’t leave here alive.”

Daven brushed the dust from his jacket, his mind racing with the implications of what had just transpired. “If I hadn’t waited for the police to arrive, your fears might have been justified. But I never step into anything without a strategy.”

An officer hurried over, urgency radiating from him. “Mr. Callister, you’re safe now. We’ll escort you to a more secure location.”

Andy, still glaring toward the dark line of trees, bristled with indignation. “And Harold? Don’t let that bastard escape! He dared to threaten my boss like that!”

“Our priority is ensuring Mr. Daven and his staff remain unharmed,” the officer replied firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. “The pursuit is ongoing. For now, you all need to clear this area. Especially you, sir—”