Mr Melendez,Your Wife Wants Divorce Long ago novel Chapter 237

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

**Chapter 237**

The mere prospect of Jayceon entering the poker game sent an electric wave of anxiety coursing through the room. Whispers of concern flitted among the group like restless shadows; if they allowed him to join, he would surely wipe them out, leaving nothing but hollow wallets and bruised egos in his wake.

Julian, ever the confident charmer, leaned back in his chair, a playful grin dancing on his lips. He broke the palpable tension with a lighthearted quip, “You know,” he began, his voice smooth and teasing, “I would absolutely relish the opportunity to challenge Mr. Melendez. Bring it on!”

Arabella, sensing the brewing storm, quickly stepped in to divert the brewing conflict. With a firm grip on Jayceon’s arm, she tugged him toward the sanctuary of the bedroom, her tone both insistent and warm. “Come on, I had Victoria whip up your favorite dishes. Go shower and change; dinner will be ready shortly.”

Jayceon hesitated at the threshold, his eyes lingering on the poker table where the sounds of laughter and playful banter echoed like a siren’s call.

He shot back, irritation threading through his voice, “Was it really made for me?”

Arabella plastered on a smile that felt more like a mask than genuine joy. “Of course! It’s a special dinner just for you. I merely invited them over to keep you company.”

Their eyes met, and in that fleeting moment, they exchanged an unspoken understanding of the tension simmering beneath the surface. Arabella’s smile faltered, revealing her own uncertainty, while Jayceon’s expression darkened, a brewing storm lurking behind his gaze.

With a gentle push, Arabella guided him toward the bathroom, then pivoted back to the poker table, ready to re-engage in the game of wits.

“Julian,” Samuel called out casually, his tone friendly yet inviting, “have you considered moving closer? It would certainly make playing poker a lot more convenient.”

Six chimed in with a chuckle, “There are no empty apartments left in this building, just The Ninth Circle of Hell! Trust me, that floor is cursed; you wouldn’t want to move in.”

Julian, a cigarette perched jauntily between his lips, tapped rhythmically on the poker table with his well-defined fingers, his narrow eyes narrowing slightly in mock seriousness. “You see, others who wander into The Ninth Circle of Hell are merely pestering ghosts. But when I step in, I am the Grim Reaper, here to claim souls. There’s nothing unlucky about that.”

Samuel, ever the jokester, added with a grin, “Julian, why not take the plunge and become our building’s protector? If you lived here, no ‘nasty things’ would dare come near.”

As the three men exchanged playful banter, Arabella remained silent, her focus entirely on calculating her hand, the game unfolding around her like a silent storm.

Finally, Julian sighed, his patience wearing thin, and pushed his cards forward with a flourish. “Full House. I win,” he declared triumphantly, a satisfied gleam in his eyes.

Arabella’s lips curled into a pout, her eyelids drooping in defeat, the playful atmosphere momentarily dimmed by her disappointment.

Just then, Jayceon emerged from the bathroom, and Samuel, sensing the shift in energy, pushed his cards forward with a grin. “Time to eat.”

Jayceon noticed Arabella eagerly maneuvering Julian’s wheelchair, and he instinctively stepped forward, saying, “I’ll take care of it.”

But Emmett, quick on his feet, beat him to it, steering Julian’s wheelchair toward the dining room with unexpected enthusiasm.

Jayceon’s brow furrowed as he surveyed the group gathered by the dining room door. Turning to Arabella, he questioned, his voice tinged with unease, “When did Emmett get so close to them?”

Arabella, distracted by the unfolding scene, responded absently, “You’ve been away the last few days. They came over to play poker and got to know each other.”

Jayceon averted his gaze, his expression inscrutable. “You’re terrible at cards but can’t resist the game. How much did you lose?”

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