Mr Melendez Your Wife Wants Divorce Long Ago novel Chapter 210

**Her Spark Ignites Tonight**
By J.S. Caldwell

**Chapter 210**

Jayceon stood resolutely in the doorway of the walk-in closet, a silent guardian preventing Arabella from slipping into her clothes. The tension in the air was palpable, thick enough to cut with a knife. Arabella, feeling the weight of his gaze, attempted to reason with him, her voice tinged with exasperation. “Don’t look at me like that, as if you’re about to devour me whole. Patients are like the elderly or children; they’re vulnerable. You have to humor them, Jayceon.” Her words hung between them, a plea for understanding.

With a grimace that darkened his features further, Jayceon snatched the incense stick from her hand, his grip firm and unyielding. “You need to rest,” he said through clenched teeth, his tone brooking no argument. “I’ll go humor him for you.”

Just then, the door creaked open, revealing Seth, who froze in shock at the sight of Jayceon. “What are you doing here?” he blurted out, his eyes wide with confusion.

Jayceon stepped into the room, his expression as dark as a storm cloud. Seth instinctively blocked his path, his voice rising in alarm. “Why are you at my place in the middle of the night?”

“I’m here to cure your illness,” Jayceon replied coolly, his gaze unwavering.

Seth took a cautious step back, a flicker of fear crossing his face. “Don’t scare me like that. A good fright can linger, and I’ll hold you responsible if I can’t shake it off.”

Jayceon chose silence, striding past Seth and into the bedroom with purpose. He placed the incense sticks in a meticulous circle around the bed, then lit two mourning candles, positioning them at the head of the bed. The flickering flames cast eerie shadows on the walls, adding to the growing sense of unease.

In the living room, Jayceon flipped the circuit breaker, and the entire apartment was enveloped in darkness, save for the soft glow of the two candles in Seth’s bedroom, which seemed to pulse ominously in the gloom.

Seth, his frustration boiling over, pointed at the circle of incense sticks and the flickering candles, his voice rising in indignation. “Why didn’t you just bring a couple of funeral wreaths up with you?”

Jayceon, unperturbed, simply patted the edge of the bed, his voice calm yet firm. “Go to sleep.”

Seth clutched the pillow Arabella had given him, retreating to the doorway of the bedroom, his eyes wide with terror as he looked at Jayceon.

At that moment, the doorbell rang, cutting through the tension. Seth fumbled for his phone, activating the flashlight as he hurried to open the door.

Arabella stepped inside, her eyes quickly scanning the darkened room. “Did your power go out?” she asked, her brow furrowing with concern.

Seth grabbed her arm, guiding her through the darkness. “Your good-for-nothing husband flipped the breaker,” he grumbled, his voice laced with irritation.

Arabella’s gaze shifted to Jayceon as he emerged from the shadows. “Why did you flip his breaker? Go turn it back on,” she urged, her tone a mix of frustration and worry.

Jayceon removed Seth’s hand from Arabella’s arm with a practiced ease, then turned back to the circuit breaker and flipped it on. The lights flickered back to life, illuminating the room and revealing the chaos that had unfolded.

Arabella felt her patience waning. She had a consultation early in the morning and still needed to make a trip to Vance Manor that evening. These two were proving to be a handful.

The troll, seizing the moment, turned to Arabella with a pleading expression. “Bella, maybe this apartment is too close to the eighteen levels of hell. The vibes are all wrong. I haven’t slept well these past few days; I feel like I’m gonna die.”

Before Arabella could respond, Jayceon interjected with a scowl, “The person on the thirteenth floor isn’t dead. What are you, on the eleventh floor, afraid of?”

Seth shook Arabella’s arm, desperation in his eyes. “Bella, how about I stay at your place tonight?”

Jayceon pushed the troll away, pulling Arabella closer to his side. “I don’t agree.”

Arabella turned to Jayceon, her voice firm. “You smoked out their bedroom. What’s wrong with letting them stay for one night?”

“Exactly,” the troll chimed in, clutching a pillow and following closely behind Arabella, throwing Jayceon a defiant look. “I’m not sleeping in your bed, so what’s your problem?”

The tension in the room crackled, each character standing their ground, the night far from over.