The Ex-Wife's Triumph novel Chapter 107

Kingsley stepped out of the dining room but didn't leave the house. Instead, he turned and headed straight to the third floor.

Pushing open the study door, he tossed his jacket onto the sofa and sank into the cushions. He closed his eyes, his fingers tracing the armrest, a dark mood settling over him.

Time ticked by quietly.

Knock, knock.

A gentle rap on the door, and Bacchus entered, his steps light.

He sat beside Kingsley but didn't speak immediately.

Finally, his warm voice broke the silence, tentative. "Want to go out for a drink?"

"I want to rest," Kingsley replied, his voice flat, not opening his eyes.

Bacchus looked at him, focusing on his furrowed brow. "Some mistakes, once made, truly cannot be fixed. But Kingsley, don't trap yourself in the past. Look forward."

Kingsley remained silent, though his fingers paused.

"If you don't want to come back later, don't force it," Bacchus said softly.

"I'll come back," Kingsley finally reacted, a faint, self-mocking smile touching his lips. "If I don't, I'm afraid everyone will forget me."

Bacchus didn't press further. He reached out, patted Kingsley's shoulder gently, and repeated, "Don't force yourself."

The study fell silent again as the two brothers sat side by side, letting time drift.

In France.

Wyatt had just landed. A blond man was waiting at the exit.

They drove straight to the vicinity of Joyce's school. After parking, they leaned against the car.

The blond man handed Wyatt a cigarette, raising a teasing eyebrow. "Stalking your crush? You should at least have a bouquet of flowers. This is too low-effort."

"Don't try anything!" Joyce warned, trying to be brave though her voice trembled. "Or Kingsley won't let you get away with it!"

"Kingsley?" Wyatt laughed as if he'd heard a joke. "Miss Mason, do you still need a pacifier? 'Kingsley this, Kingsley that.' I'm so scared."

He was about to say more, but Joyce suddenly turned and ran back toward the campus.

Wyatt watched her retreating figure, chuckling low. He ran his tongue over his teeth. "Runs fast. How boring."

He pulled out his phone, typing quickly: [Book me a ticket to Switzerland. The sooner the better.]

The Capital.

Night deepened.

Inside a brightly lit private booth, Kingsley sat opposite a business associate, toying with a wine glass.