Mr Melendez,Your Wife Wants Divorce Long ago novel Chapter 234

**Her Spark Ignites Tonight**
**By J.S. Caldwell**
**Chapter 234**

Arabella stood at a crossroads, her heart racing as she contemplated the monumental decision she was about to make—she wanted a divorce. The weight of her choice hung heavily in the air, a tangible force that seemed to pulse with her resolve.

On the other hand, Jayceon was unwavering, his spirit as fierce as a lion’s. “Arabella is a doctor, and she’s younger than Julian,” he declared, his voice booming with conviction. “She’s dedicated, fiercely committed to her work. What’s wrong with that?” Each word he spoke was a protective barrier, a shield he raised against the storm of criticism that threatened to engulf her.

Yet, Arabella felt no warmth from his misplaced loyalty. Instead, a fire ignited within her, fueled by betrayal. “I didn’t force Jayceon into infidelity!” she shot back, her tone slicing through the tension like a knife. “He chose to betray me with Georgina, and now he has a son because of it. If your family has the power to silence me, then go ahead! Silence everyone who dares to speak against me. But don’t target me just because I stand alone, without the support of my parents!”

The atmosphere crackled with tension, and Sir, Jayceon’s grandfather, who had been an ominous presence in the room, suddenly erupted like a volcano. His finger pointed accusingly at Arabella, trembling with barely contained rage. “You wretched thing, get on your knees!”

Arabella, however, stood her ground, her posture unwavering. “I kneel only before God and my parents. The Melendez family neither gave me life nor raised me. Why should I ever lower myself to them?”

In the past, she had harbored affection for Jayceon’s family, treating them with the utmost respect, careful not to provoke the elders. She had tiptoed around their egos, believing that harmony would keep the peace in her life.

But that was a different era, a different Arabella. Now, she felt no desire for Jayceon, nor for the family that had brought her nothing but pain. Their rules, their expectations—she had no use for any of it. If they couldn’t accept her, then so be it; a divorce was on the horizon.

Did they genuinely believe she would tear herself apart over this? Not a chance.

Sir’s eyes narrowed, and he pointed toward the door with a menacing glare. “Someone, tie this useless thing up for me!”

At his command, a swarm of bodyguards surged into the room, their imposing figures casting long shadows. Jayceon instinctively grasped Arabella’s wrist, pulling her protectively to his side. “Grandfather, Arabella is my wife. Don’t push your luck!” he warned, desperation creeping into his voice.

Arabella wriggled free from his grasp, her frustration bubbling to the surface like a boiling pot. “Is this really the moment for you to be angry with me?” Jayceon snapped, his irritation evident.

Arabella’s eyes turned icy, her disdain palpable. “Seeing you act like this reminds me of how you once protected Georgina. It makes me feel nauseous. I can’t stand it.”

Their gazes locked, and the disgust in Arabella’s eyes was a stark reminder of the affection that had once united them. Jayceon took a step back, visibly shaken by her words.

With an unyielding calmness that belied the storm within her, Arabella retrieved her phone. She directed her gaze at Sir, her voice steady, yet laced with defiance. “Tomorrow, I need to go to Vance Manor to treat Julian. If you dare to harm me today, I will inform Julian that you coerced me into halting his treatment, that you want him to suffer from insomnia indefinitely, trapped in that wheelchair.”

A flash of ruthlessness flickered across Sir’s murky eyes, and the air thickened with tension.

“You wretched thing, are you threatening me?” he growled, his voice low and dangerous.

“This isn’t a threat; it’s self-preservation,” Arabella replied coolly, her demeanor unflinching.

At that moment, Tabitha, a silent observer to the chaos, shot Jayceon a significant look, urging him to act.

Jayceon tightened his grip on Arabella’s wrist, pulling her toward the exit. Arabella struggled against him, unable to shake off his hold. As they moved, she glanced back and taunted, “Don’t be angry, old man. In the Melendez family, the fish rots from the head down.”

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