The Ex-Wife's Triumph novel Chapter 181

At the gala, Lucy spent a long time chatting with Mrs. Lucas, their conversation revolving entirely around the project. Mrs. Lucas opened up completely, laying out all her concepts and ideas. Lucy listened intently throughout, occasionally interjecting to fill in details or refine the proposal based on Mrs. Lucas's train of thought. The chemistry between them was palpable, and the atmosphere grew exceptionally harmonious.

Once the conversation ended and they parted ways, Lucy's gaze swept across the glittering banquet hall, catching a glimpse of Jules deep in conversation with someone nearby.

She didn't approach him. Instead, she lifted the hem of her gown and walked straight to a sofa in the lounge area. Just as she sat down, her phone vibrated.

A message popped up on the screen: [Joyce has gone back to France.]

Lucy's fingertips glided over the screen as she typed a single-character reply: [OK.]

As she set the phone down, the corner of her lip curled in a faint sneer, and she muttered under her breath, "Boring. Too weak."

The situation was entirely different from what she had anticipated. Joyce had liked Kingsley for so many years. Now that she was single again, shouldn't she be clinging to him with everything she had? How could she leave so easily?

Lucy put her phone away. Her fingertips had just brushed against the fabric of her dress when a familiar voice sounded from behind her.

Peter approached holding two glasses of champagne, his tone familiar. "Hi, Lucy."

She lifted her eyelids, her gaze sweeping indifferently over the wine glasses in his hands. "Something the matter? I want to be alone for a while."

Peter acted as if he hadn't heard her. He sat down naturally on the adjacent sofa, swirling the liquid in his glass, his words carrying a hint of probing curiosity.

"Something the matter—don't you like money?"

Hearing this, Lucy's lips curved into a faint, detached smile, her tone carrying a careless bluntness. "Are you an idiot? Who doesn't like money? If I didn't like money, why would I go to work every day?"

Her words made Peter silently sweat for Kingsley—it wasn't that she didn't like money; she clearly just didn't give a damn about *Kingsley's* money.

Peter waved his hands hurriedly to explain, his tone laced with eager ingratiation. "I was just trying to help you find out what she likes, so you can win her back sooner!"

Kingsley glanced at him, his look lazy but piercing. "With your intelligence, she'd have you sold before you knew it."

This stung Peter, and he raised his voice slightly to retort, "I'm not that stupid! She likes money, but she specifically won't touch yours. She just doesn't want any ties with you. So what if you're rich? She just won't forgive you!"

As soon as the words left his mouth, he saw the fire in Kingsley's eyes threatening to erupt. He shut his mouth immediately and, before the other man could explode, turned and slipped away.

After Peter left, Kingsley stood rooted to the spot. The words, however, struck his heart like a heavy hammer—she didn't hate money; she simply rejected everything associated with him. Even his wealth had become something she avoided like the plague.

Kingsley's face was like thunder. He slammed his wine glass down onto the nearby table, the glass making a crisp sound against the surface.