The Ex-Wife's Triumph novel Chapter 182

Frustration churned in his chest, so he turned and walked out, intending to smoke a cigarette to calm his nerves.

Leaving behind the noise of the banquet hall, he arrived at the outdoor garden.

The night breeze blew with a chill. He had just lit a cigarette and taken a drag when a familiar figure broke into his line of sight.

His fingers paused. He immediately stubbed out the cigarette and strode toward the figure with his long legs.

Lucy had just hung up the phone. The silence of the garden made footsteps sound exceptionally clear.

She turned at the sound and crashed into Kingsley's deep gaze. The smile on her face faded instantly, and with a flick of her fingers, she stowed her phone in her bag.

Kingsley took off his suit jacket and reached out to drape it over her shoulders, his voice low. "Hiding out here for some peace and quiet?"

Lucy reacted as if she had touched something scalding. She swatted the jacket away, her tone distant. "Mr. Sherwood, you're certainly good at engaging in wishful thinking these days."

The jacket fluttered in the air before Kingsley reached out and caught it steadily, his eyes locked on her. "I've used up all my chances for wishful thinking on you already."

"No one held a knife to your throat and forced you," Lucy said, not wanting to entangle herself with him further. She lifted her dress hem, intending to leave.

Suddenly, her wrist was seized by a warm, large hand.

She stopped abruptly, her cold voice ringing out in the quiet garden. "Let go!"

Kingsley didn't let go. Instead, he increased his grip slightly, his tone carrying a trace of refusal. "If you don't want to earn my money, I can recommend a few clients to you."

"Hah, do I look like I'm lacking your few clients?" She looked up at the hand gripping her wrist, her eyes turning cold. She raised her hard-shell clutch and smashed it directly onto his hand.

The metal embellishments on the bag were sharp. As they scraped across the back of his hand, they instantly left a long, bloody scratch.

Kingsley released his hand and looked down at the blood seeping from the wound. His expression remained unchanged, as if he couldn't feel the pain.

He looked at Lucy, his tone remaining firm. "But I want to give them to you."

He hurried over, asking in shock, "What happened to you? Did you get into a fistfight with Jules?"

Kingsley glanced at him, his tone cold. "No."

"Then did someone ambush you?" Peter's curiosity grew stronger as he chased after him with questions.

"With an imagination like that, why aren't you a detective?" Kingsley ignored him and walked toward the exit of the hall.

"The first step of being a detective is finding out who gave you that wound!" Peter teased with a laugh. He was about to follow but was called by David nearby, forcing him to stop.

Kingsley left the party alone and went to the parking lot.

Xavier, who was waiting there, saw the injury on his hand immediately and hurried forward. "Mr. Sherwood, what happened to your hand?"

Kingsley pulled open the car door. "It's nothing."