Mr Melendez,Your Wife Wants Divorce Long ago novel Chapter 356

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

**Chapter 356**

That fateful day at Vance Manor, Arabella felt a gnawing certainty that Julian was in distress, perhaps even injured. The thought weighed heavily on her mind, a persistent echo that she couldn’t shake off.

She recalled the age-old adage: one good turn deserves another. It resonated with her, especially during the tumultuous period of her divorce from Jayceon. Through that stormy chapter of her life, it had been Julian who stood by her side, unwavering and steadfast. He had taken it upon himself to confront Jayceon, applying pressure without a second thought for the feelings of either the Clemons or Melendez families. His courage and loyalty had been a lifeline for her, and now, knowing he might be in trouble, Arabella felt a compelling urge to act. She couldn’t simply remain a passive observer in his time of need.

As the sun dipped below the horizon that evening, casting a warm glow across the landscape, Arabella found herself driving alone toward Vance Manor. She hadn’t given Julian any warning of her visit, so she parked at the entrance, her mind racing as she crafted an excuse on the spot.

Just then, a scrap truck ambled into view, its rusty body clattering as it came to a halt at the manor’s entrance. Two men, both in their forties, climbed out and made their way directly toward her vehicle.

Arabella glanced at the clock on her dashboard; it was barely seven. She often spotted scrap trucks in the area, so she initially dismissed them as nothing out of the ordinary. However, as the two men approached, she felt a flicker of unease. They stood outside her car, their faces shadowed but their intent clear. “Miss, are you the owner of this estate?” one of them inquired, his tone casual but his eyes searching.

Arabella remained seated, her instincts kicking in as she scrutinized them closely. Thoughts of Julian’s recent injury flooded her mind, sharpening her awareness. She rolled her window up halfway, maintaining a barrier between herself and the strangers. “I’m just passing through,” she replied, trying to sound nonchalant. “I stopped to make a call.”

The men exchanged glances, their demeanor shifting subtly. Without another word, they turned to leave, and a sense of foreboding washed over Arabella. “Are you looking for the owner of this house for a reason?” she called out, her voice steady despite the flutter of anxiety in her chest.

For a brief moment, their steps faltered, and then, as if sensing her suspicion, they hurriedly climbed back into their truck and drove away. Arabella’s heart raced. Something felt off, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that she had stumbled upon something sinister. Without wasting another second, she exited her car and approached the front door, her resolve hardening.

If they were genuine scrap collectors, they would have knocked and asked the owner if there was anything to collect. Their evasiveness spoke volumes.

When Oliver opened the door, Arabella stepped inside Vance Manor with a sense of urgency. The dimly lit interior felt unusually quiet, and a chill crept up her spine as she scanned the space. There was no sign of Theodore, nor any staff members bustling about. It was as though the manor itself was holding its breath.

Her unease deepened as she made her way to the second floor, where she found Julian in his study. He sat in his wheelchair by the French windows, dressed in loose, dark pajamas that hung slightly off his frame. His fingers moved methodically over the rosary beads, his expression distant and contemplative.

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