HIS REGRET (Ex-Husband wants Me Back) novel Chapter 90

**Shadows of the Past – By Emma Clarke**
**Chapter 90**

“Come with me to greet the producer,” Vanessa urged, her voice barely above a whisper, laced with excitement. “He’s the one who put my name forward for this film. I really ought to thank him properly, don’t you think?”

Daven remained silent, his expression unreadable.

“Did you manage to eat well while I was in Paris?” she inquired, leaning slightly against his arm, hoping to draw him into her world. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a pair of eyes lingering on them, and a surge of determination coursed through her. There was no way she would give anyone the satisfaction of seeing her falter. They had to present themselves as the quintessential couple—an image of perfection that had to be maintained at all costs. Always. Everywhere. No exceptions.

“I won’t be staying long,” Daven replied, his tone flat and devoid of warmth.

She let out a barely audible huff, but her smile remained resolute, brightening her face. “That’s unfortunate. I had quite a few people I was hoping to chat with during dinner. You simply must stay with me, darling.”

Yet, he offered no response.

The hotel ballroom above them sparkled with a warm glow, the light cascading from the crystal chandeliers like a gentle waterfall. A soft orchestral melody floated through the air, weaving its way through the laughter and the delicate clinking of glasses that filled the room. Daven was clad in a classic black suit—elegant, expensive, and impeccably tailored. Beside him, Vanessa shone in a silver sequin gown, her hair styled in a flawless chignon that added to her allure. The cameras were ever-watchful, capturing their every move. This evening, they were the embodiment of an ideal couple.

“I noticed some influential Japanese businessmen are here too,” Vanessa murmured, her voice low, yet filled with intrigue. “Are any of them connected to your work?”

As if on cue, a server glided by, balancing a tray laden with sparkling wine glasses. Vanessa reached for one, extending it toward Daven with a playful smile. He hesitated, his brow furrowing slightly, but ultimately accepted the glass. She took one for herself as well, her signature smile unwavering—a deliberate gesture meant to showcase their affection to the world.

“Maybe you could stop by and greet them? Just for a moment?” she suggested, her tone feigning casual curiosity, though her eyes sparkled with ambition.

“I don’t want to talk business,” Daven replied, taking a measured sip of his wine, his demeanor cool and detached.

“What a shame,” Vanessa replied, her lips forming a small pout, deliberately hinting at disappointment. Still, Daven maintained his role as her supportive partner, even if it felt like a performance. They exchanged pleasantries with her acquaintances, and occasionally, he would nod to someone from his own professional circles.

“Miss Vanessa,” James greeted with a polite nod as he approached them, his expression serious. “Good evening, Mr. Daven.”

“Wait for me,” she said, planting a quick, affectionate peck on his cheek before disappearing into the crowd, her heart racing with the thrill of the evening.

Once Vanessa melted into the throng of guests, a few attendees gravitated toward Daven, eager to engage him in conversation. The topic quickly shifted to the expansion project he was spearheading in Osaka—news of his success had spread like wildfire, especially after he emerged victorious in a fiercely competitive bidding war.

“I assume the project will wrap up before winter?” a middle-aged man in a Ministry of Trade badge asked, his eyes keen with interest.

Daven nodded slightly, maintaining an air of professionalism. “We’re finalizing the last stretch of the land asset legalization process. The soft opening—if I recall correctly—will be in Shinsaibashi, Osaka. I do hope you’ll attend,” he added, punctuating his words with a meaningful smile, knowing the man had significant influence over the tax arrangements tied to the construction work.

“Shinsaibashi, huh?” a striking woman in the group interjected, her voice smooth and enticing. “It’s such a beautiful and strategic location for business. You’ve made an excellent choice. A businessman’s intuition like yours deserves applause.”

If Daven wasn’t mistaken, she was a renowned film actress, often portrayed in the media as Vanessa’s long-time rival, notorious for her sharp tongue. Her smile was faint, and her eyes briefly met Daven’s before she took a slow, deliberate sip of the wine in her hand, as if savoring the moment. “By the way, I’ve been wondering,” she continued, her tone shifting to one of curiosity.

Daven glanced at her, waiting, intrigued by her intent. What was she getting at?