Mr Melendez Your Wife Wants Divorce Long Ago novel Chapter 339

**TITLE: Her Spark Ignites Tonight**
**By J.S. Caldwell**
**Chapter 339**

Julian’s fingers moved deliberately over the rosary beads, each bead a silent witness to his thoughts. “I appreciate your concern, Arabella,” he said, his voice steady but laced with an undercurrent of tension. “The treatment is on hold for now. You should go home.”

Arabella’s senses were heightened; she could detect the faint, metallic tang of blood lingering in the air of the study. It was a scent that sent a chill down her spine.

She hesitated, her curiosity piqued, but the gravity of the moment compelled her to remain silent. With a heavy heart, she turned to leave the study, her mind racing with unasked questions.

As she reached for the door, Julian’s voice cut through the air, directing his loyal subordinate, Ryan. “Please, take Dr. Palmer home.”

More than ten minutes later, as Arabella approached her car, Ryan stepped forward, his demeanor serious. “Ms. Palmer, I’ll be following you in my vehicle.”

Arabella’s concern bubbled to the surface, and she couldn’t help but voice it. “Ryan, did something happen to Julian?”

Ryan’s gaze fell to the ground, a clear sign that things were amiss.

Arabella’s heart sank; her intuition had been right all along. “What exactly happened to him?” she pressed, her voice barely above a whisper, filled with urgency.

Ryan glanced around, ensuring their conversation remained private, then leaned closer. “Ms. Palmer, you know how Julian operates. What he decides is final. Please, don’t press me on this. My only duty is to ensure you get home safely. Beyond that, I’m not at liberty to discuss anything.”

Arabella studied Ryan’s face, searching for any hint of reassurance. After a long pause, she pulled out her phone. “Ryan, please add my contact details. If you find yourself in need, don’t hesitate to reach out. If Julian lays the blame on you, just point it towards me.”

They exchanged information, and as Arabella slid into her car, a sense of unease settled over her.

If her instincts were correct, Julian was indeed injured. The thought gnawed at her. He wouldn’t allow her to treat him, fearing she might uncover the truth of his condition.

What kind of injury would he conceal from her?

A flood of dreadful possibilities surged through Arabella’s mind, each more alarming than the last. Yet, no matter the circumstances, Julian had always shown her kindness. If he needed assistance, she couldn’t simply stand by and do nothing.

On her way back, her phone rang, startling her from her thoughts. It was Kimberly, requesting that she meet her at the Empire Club.

**Chapter 339**

As Arabella descended the stairs to the first floor, she spotted Jayceon making his way down from the upper levels, flanked by a small entourage. His towering figure, clad in a sharply tailored suit, exuded an air of authority that made him impossible to overlook.

Their eyes locked for a fleeting moment, and Arabella instinctively stepped aside, making way for him.

Jayceon dismissed his companions with a wave of his hand, descending the final steps with purpose. He approached her, his voice deep and resonant. “What brings you here at this hour?”

Jayceon’s breath hitched in his throat as he bent down to retrieve the pillow, placing it back where it belonged.

He had indulged a bit too much tonight; clarity was essential. A shower was in order to wash away the weight of his thoughts.

Stumbling into the master bathroom, he stood beneath the cold spray of the shower for what felt like an eternity, hoping to drown out the chaos in his mind.

Clad only in a white bathrobe, he approached the sink, where Arabella’s cup still sat, a relic of her presence. Her face towel, freshly unwrapped, barely showed signs of use.

His fingers brushed against the black hair tie she had left behind, and he clenched it tightly, feeling an overwhelming wave of nostalgia.

Gripping the edge of the sink, he stared into the mirror, his reflection a ghost of the man he once was, haunted by memories of Arabella.

“Jay, I had these matching cups custom-made online. You have to use one,” she had insisted, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm.

He had stubbornly refused, the rejection dimming the light in her eyes, but she had masked her disappointment with a smile, trying to charm him back into her good graces.

Yet when he had turned her down again, the hurt had been palpable; her eyes glistened with unshed tears as she pouted, declaring her anger.