The Billion-Dollar Divorce (Ian and Chloe) novel Chapter 232

Chapter 232

Chapter 232

Late at night, outside the Irvine family’s front gate.

Ian stood next to his car in a crisp suit, his gaze locked on the Irvine family’s closed entrance.

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The master bedroom light on the villa’s second floor was still shining. Ian knew Chloe hadn’t gone to bed yet.

He checked his phone–still no reply from Chloe to his message.

Honestly, it had been ages since Chloe last answered any of his texts or calls.

She never blocked his number, just simply acted like he didn’t exist.

There could be anyone else by her side, but he was the only one she’d never let near her.

For Ian, that kind of helplessness felt like a dull blade, slicing him bit by bit–always making him ache, never quite killing him.

And yet, he was powerless to change any of it.

He was on the verge of being driven insane by the suffocating mix of helplessness and pain.

Hearing the car door open behind him, Ian turned around.

Thomas Quinn, the butler from Hamilton Manor, hurried out of the car.

Ian glanced at Thomas, then looked back at the still–lit window on the second floor.

Ian’s gaze grew heavier and more troubled as he stared.

He pretty much already knew why Thomas had come, but he still asked in a steady voice, “Why are you here?”

Thomas said respectfully, “Sir, Mr. Hamilton sent me to bring you home.”

Noticing lan hesitating, still staring at the Irvine family’s gate, Thomas reminded him softly, “Chloe already called your father. She won’t come down to see you tonight. Let’s head back together.”

Jan gripped his phone tightly, his eyes lingering on the glowing window upstairs for a long while, then he finally turned and got into his own car.

It was almost dawn when lan stumbled in, reeking of booze.

He swayed into his bedroom, and just one look at the neat gray–and–white sheets snapped him wide awake- like someone had thrown cold water in his face.

“Cora!” lan called out.

Even though it was the middle of the night, Cora rushed out of the maid’s quarters in record time, already dressed and ready.

79

Chapter 232

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Ian pointed at the gray–and–white sheets on the bed and demanded, “Who told you to change them?”

Cora was startled by his anger and quickly explained, “Sir, you’ve kept using the bedding that Chloe left behind and never let me replace it. Yesterday, Mrs. Hamilton came over, saw it, and told me to take it off and wash it.”

Ian shook his head hard to clear his mind, then pointed again at the bed. “Put Chloe’s bedding back. Right now!”

After giving his order, Ian went to the bathroom while Cora hurried to put Chloe’s set back on the bed.

It was the dead of night in the master bedroom.

Ian lay on the bed in a dark robe, staring blankly at the ceiling.

Instinctively, he reached for the empty side of the bed, and his heart tightened painfully, as if gripped by unseen hands.

No matter how he turned or looked, he couldn’t find a trace of Chloe’s familiar scent anywhere on this bed.

Ian lay on his side, clutching the blanket tightly to his chest.

His mind flashed back to the early days of his marriage with Chloe.

Chloe used to say that those traditional wedding bedding sets didn’t help him sleep at all, and the gray–and- white ones he always preferred just made the room feel dull and cold.

One time, while he was out, Chloe sneaked around and swapped out every set of bedding in the house for something new.

That night, he stubbornly made her switch everything back to how it was.

But Chloe was adamant–she said the rustic, back–to–nature vibe was all about freshness and tranquility. It made the room peaceful and cozy, helped him relax, and was supposed to ease his insomnia better than anything.

Just then, his phone rang. With an icy look, he replied coldly, “If bedding could cure insomnia, doctors would be out of business.”

He could still remember the wronged look on Chloe’s face–she seemed genuinely hurt.

But when he finally finished his call and walked out of the study, Chloe had already switched the bedding.

Ignoring his chilly demeanor, she nuzzled up to him, wrapped her arms around his waist, and asked if he’d eaten. Then she sweetly offered, “Want me to make you some noodles in the kitchen?”

Back then, Chloe was really good to him, lan thought, heart aching.

‘But now, she can’t even stand the sight of me–doesn’t want to see me at all, he told himself.

*****

But lan didn’t eat a single bite–he went straight to the office.

He was afraid to let himself remember all the moments he’d shared with Chloe.

But the memories just kept flooding in, no matter how hard he tried to shut them out.

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No matter how he ran it over in his mind, it always came down to one thing: he was the one who drove away Chloe–the girl whose whole world used to revolve around him.

Mitchell saw lan staring grimly at his own hands and couldn’t help but feel a wave of concern.

‘Don’t tell me the boss is actually thinking about chopping off his own hands,‘ Mitchell thought nervously.

His eyes flicked to the fruit knife on the coffee table in the lounge, and Mitchell quietly walked over to remove it–just in case.

Ian picked up his phone and opened the WhatsApp chat with Chloe–still nothing from her.

He switched over to Chloe’s Instagram and absentmindedly ran his calloused finger across her latest selfie, lost in the memory.

Just then, Patrick knocked and stepped inside.

He noticed Ian staring at his phone, completely zoned out.

Patrick joked, “What’s so fascinating on your phone? Aren’t you supposed to be working?”

When lan didn’t react, Patrick craned his neck to peek at Ian’s phone.

That finally made Ian put his phone away.

Patrick joked, “What’s up, waiting for Chloe’s fan to just spin with no breeze so she’ll have an excuse to ring you up for repairs?”

Ian glanced at him. “Did Lewis Group go under or something? You seem to have a lot of time on your hands.”

Patrick lounged against Ian’s desk, flashing a cheeky grin.

He nodded at the fruit knife in Mitchell’s hand. “Bro, why are you wandering around the office with a knife first thing in the morning?”

“Uh, I forgot my nail clippers. Just figured I’d use the fruit knife instead,” Mitchell said, totally winging it.

He bolted out of the office before anyone could question him further.

Ian could only stare, speechless.

Once Mitchell left, Patrick’s face grew somber.

He turned to Jan and said, “Mr. Henry Quinn’s got himself a new wife–you must know who she is by now, right?”