The Ex-Wife's Triumph novel Chapter 118

Kingsley sat in the car when his phone suddenly vibrated. Thurston sent three messages in a row:

[You're not going back with me tomorrow? When are you leaving?]

[Hurry back, or what if Ethan and I miss you?]

[You're not planning to live there long-term, are you? Switzerland isn't as good as home. Come back soon.]

Kingsley scanned the messages, his fingers tapping the screen rapidly to retort:

[I don't need to report my actions to you, and it's certainly not your place to lecture me.]

[And don't fish for information for your wife. It's useless.]

[Message again, and I'll block you.]

Thurston laughed in anger after reading it and handed the phone to Jane beside him.

Jane raised an eyebrow, her tone tinged with mockery. "Thurston, block him right now, and you might still salvage some dignity."

Thurston didn't hesitate. He blocked him on the spot and tossed the phone aside.

Jane looked at him and said plainly, "We're leaving tomorrow. Lucy is working, and Seven rarely goes out, so there's nothing to worry about. Stop meddling with him."

Thurston resumed massaging her legs, his voice deep. "But paper can't wrap fire forever."

Jane looked up, scrutinizing him. "Wrap it for as long as possible. What, you want to help him?"

"No," Thurston shook his head immediately, his tone resolute. "He doesn't deserve it."

Jane suddenly pulled her leg back, her tone turning colder. "Good that you know. You'd better weigh what's important—otherwise, just go live with him."

"Honey, I know exactly what's important!" Thurston hurriedly declared his position, his tone full of ingratiation. "Don't worry, I absolutely won't say an extra word."

He looked as if he was about to kneel on the spot to prove his resolve.

The next morning.

Lucy drove Emma to a construction site. After parking, she opened the trunk and bent down to swap her high heels for flats that were easier to walk in.

Entering the site, her gaze immediately landed on the construction details.

The site manager saw her from a distance and called out familiarly, "Lucy."

Lucy nodded in response, her tone polite and natural. "Hard work on the site today."

"It's expected," the manager waved a hand with a smile. "We've partnered for so long; we have that rhythm."

"If I dared to ask, would I need to ask you?" Peter pouted.

"Then shut up." Kingsley's voice deepened, carrying an unquestionable chill.

Lucy and Emma didn't ask for a private room, heading straight for a table by the window in the main hall.

Just as Lucy took a sip of warm herbal tea, a male voice laced with laughter sounded beside the table. "Hi, Miss Lucy. We meet again."

Lucy put down her teacup and looked up at the blond, blue-eyed man, her tone distant. "We aren't that close. No need to go out of your way to say hello."

Peter didn't mind her coldness. He leaned in with a smile. "We'll get close after a few more greetings. I want to be friends with Miss Lucy."

Lucy recalled how he stood talking familiarly with Kingsley at the gala the night before. Her lips curled into a sneer. "But I don't want to be friends with you. Besides, primarily, I don't want any involvement with anyone around my ex-husband."

"I'm different from Kingsley." Peter raised an eyebrow, his tone playful.

"I can see that." Lucy gave a faint smile, knowing in her eyes—she had realized he was gay early on.

Then her expression turned serious, and her tone grew colder. "Please don't disturb our meal."

Peter hit a soft wall but didn't get angry. Instead, he smiled and stepped back two paces. "Okay, no disturbing. Enjoy your meal, ladies."