HIS REGRET (Ex-Husband wants Me Back) novel Chapter 95

**Shadows of the Past – By Emma Clarke**
**Chapter 95**

Daven stood with his back turned to the room, his gaze fixed on the expansive view outside the towering floor-to-ceiling window. Before him lay the sprawling city of Mighatan, alive with the frenetic energy of midday traffic, the ceaseless flow of pedestrians, and the towering skyscrapers that punctuated the skyline. It was a vivid tableau of life, yet it barely penetrated the fog of his thoughts. His mind was adrift in a storm of uncertainty.

His hands were tightly clenched within the pockets of his trousers, his jaw set in a firm line that betrayed his inner turmoil.

The report from Rio echoed in his mind like a haunting refrain—not because it was thorough, but rather due to its glaring incompleteness. Rio had been unable to penetrate the veil of secrecy surrounding the truth. A simple DNA test had been rendered impossible, and in a shocking turn of events, all records of Josh’s birth in SunCity had vanished as if they had never existed.

Someone was concealing the truth, and Daven’s instincts screamed at him to uncover it.

A relentless pressure built within him, a nagging whisper that suggested the unsettling possibility that Josh could indeed be his son. But if that were the case… then what? The answer eluded him, slipping through his fingers like sand. He was left grappling with the enormity of it all, unable to fathom what he would do if this truth—the one he had never been allowed to confront—was indeed real.

Yet, amidst the chaos of his thoughts, one thing remained clear: he could not simply walk away from this mystery.

Just then, a soft knock at the door shattered the silence, followed by the creak of hinges and the sound of cautious footsteps.

“Mr. Daven,” Arsen entered, his demeanor visibly tense. “I apologize for intruding, but… someone has been trying to reach you. They mentioned they’ve called several times.”

Daven remained motionless, his focus unwavering. “Who?”

“Mrs. Catherine, sir. She’s requesting your presence at home tonight. There’s a family dinner planned, and the Blakes will be attending as well.” Arsen hesitated, his voice tinged with discomfort as he delivered the last piece of news.

Daven let out a dry, humorless laugh. “Of course. Vanessa orchestrated it, didn’t she?” The lack of surprise was palpable; he had anticipated this. Yet, his heart was far too consumed by weightier matters to care about family gatherings.

“So… should I arrange for anything to be sent to the main house?” Arsen asked cautiously, gauging Daven’s mood. “If you’re planning to attend, that is.”

“No need,” Daven replied curtly, his tone leaving no room for debate. “I won’t be going.”

Arsen blinked, taken aback by the unexpected rejection. “But, sir—”

Daven finally turned to face him, his expression a mix of irritation and resolve. Arsen stood a short distance away, his surprise evident at Daven’s unusual stance. It was common knowledge that Daven never missed family obligations, and yet here he was, defying expectations.

This time, however, he had no intention of subjecting himself to an environment that made his skin crawl with discontent.

“Not Vanessa,” Daven interjected sharply, his voice rising slightly. “Althea.”

The revelation hung in the air like a thunderclap.

So that was the reason he had enlisted someone like Rional Greg to dig into matters—no wonder Arsen had sensed an underlying tension. Still, he never would have imagined this twist. He had pondered the possibility, yes, but never dared to voice it.

“You mean… Josh is Miss Althea’s son?” Arsen asked, needing the confirmation to settle in his mind.

“That’s what Rio’s report indicates,” Daven replied, loosening his tie and sinking onto the sofa. He sought not comfort, but a fleeting respite from the weight pressing down on his chest. “And I believe it. I believe that Josh is mine.”

Arsen was left speechless, grappling with the implications of Daven’s words.

He had witnessed firsthand how Daven had treated Althea—cold, distant, and at times, unkind. How could something like this have transpired between them? It defied logic. Or perhaps it made sense in a twisted, convoluted way. But no, he couldn’t reconcile the notion that Daven and Althea had ever shared anything intimate.

Yet, if he were to be honest, if given the chance to speak freely, Arsen would have confessed what he had held back for far too long: that Althea was different. She possessed a rare sincerity, a quiet strength, and a kindness that no one else in Daven’s life had ever demonstrated.