**Her Spark Ignites Tonight**
By J.S. Caldwell
**Chapter 145**
The name felt like poison on his tongue, and he’d lash out at anyone who dared to utter it.
If it weren’t for the relentless insomnia gnawing at him, compelling him to seek her treatment, Arabella was certain that calling him that would seal her fate before the dawn broke.
But there was more at play here.
The atmosphere in her home, suffocating and dense, was such that even the tiniest mosquito would find it unbearable.
What would it mean if she actually brought this young master into her life?
The moment the Troll caught wind of Arabella uttering his nickname, he recoiled as if stung. “…I think I’ll just find a hotel for the night, then.”
Arabella, sensing the shift, recognized that it was time to retreat gracefully. She swiftly led Blaire to the hotel for check-in, eager to escape the tension that hung like a heavy fog in her life.
As they walked, the Troll sidled up to her, his demeanor suddenly brightening. “Arabella, I had a sports car shipped in just for you. After dinner, how about a spin around Zelmere?”
Arabella couldn’t help but smile at the idea. She would much rather cultivate a friendly rapport with her VIP patient than return to the suffocating atmosphere that awaited her with Jayceon.
While she lingered in the hotel lobby, waiting for the Troll, fate intervened, and she bumped into Georgina.
Georgina cast a furtive glance around, ensuring they were alone before she dropped her facade. “You parade around talking about divorce, yet you seize every opportunity to flaunt your so-called perfect life. I, Georgina, could never stoop to such hypocrisy.”
Arabella’s eyes narrowed, filled with contempt. “Georgina, I suggested you bring the child to the press conference to assert your claim, but you were the one too cowardly to follow through!”
She had been prepared to execute a clever plan, but Georgina had managed to sidestep it.
The anger flared in Georgina’s eyes, a dark shadow crossing her features as Arabella struck a nerve.
Arabella had warned her, urging her to show up with the child to establish their connection.
Deep down, Arabella was acutely aware that her son had no ties to Jayceon.
Had Georgina taken the plunge and attended, the fallout would have been catastrophic—Jayceon and the old men of the Melendez family would have been furious, and her fate could have mirrored the horror of six years prior.
Georgina felt a mix of fury and envy boiling within her, but she maintained her composure, feigning indifference. “I don’t care about titles. As long as Jay’s heart belongs to me, that’s all that matters.”
Blaire, having approached Arabella unnoticed, chimed in with a mischievous grin. “Arabella, since this lady is so open-minded, let’s hope all her descendants are destined to be mistresses!”
Georgina’s expression soured, morphing into something unrecognizable.
Blaire leaned back, his expression one of disbelief. “Arabella, this is a racing-grade sports car!”
Undeterred, Arabella took the keys, slid into the driver’s seat, and buckled up with practiced ease. “I started racing when I was five, competed in the kids’ division of the WRC, and even won some awards. I was an amateur racer in college for a club. You can trust my driving completely.”
Memories flooded back, reminding her of the vibrant, carefree girl she once was.
In her pursuit of Jayceon, she had molded herself into a version that he preferred, suppressing her fiery spirit to become the devoted wife he desired, all in an attempt to penetrate the walls around his heart.
But in the end, she had emerged from that tumult utterly shattered.
Cornered and with no escape in sight, she had learned a painful lesson.
Love was a game she refused to play again.
When Blaire learned of her racing background, his eyes sparkled with excitement. “I want to join a racing club! Can you help me get in?”
“Absolutely,” she replied, her foot pressing down on the gas pedal, the car surging forward like a bullet.
As Arabella sped away with Blaire, Georgina stepped out from behind a pillar near the restaurant entrance, her expression a mix of surprise and intrigue.

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