The Ex-Wife's Triumph novel Chapter 186

Lucy, however, paid no mind to his composure—or lack thereof. Having said her piece, she turned and walked straight past him without a second's pause. Her gaze didn't linger on him for even a fraction of a second, treating him as if he were nothing more than an insignificant speck of dust in the air.

It wasn't until Lucy's figure disappeared behind the manor gates that the crimson rage in Kingsley Sherwood's eyes faded, replaced by a bone-chilling coldness.

He looked at Jules Holt, his tone dripping with mockery. "Hiding behind a woman? How impressive."

Jules leaned back against his car, a lazy, provocative smile touching his mouth. "Is that envy I'm hearing? How unfortunate. Especially since you're the one who drove her away."

The words struck Kingsley like a bolt of lightning, cleaving straight through his heart.

He knew it was true. In the early days of their marriage, Lucy's obedience had been a facade, but the light in her eyes later on, the genuine care she had poured into him—that had all been real.

A wave of regret surged up his throat, choking him until he could barely breathe. It felt as though a mouthful of metallic blood was lodged in his chest.

He clenched his fists, his voice low but filled with undeniable certainty. "I will get her back."

Jules paused as he opened his car door. He glanced back, his eyes filled with a knowing amusement. "That depends on whether you even get the chance."

With that, Jules slipped into the driver's seat. The door slammed shut with a heavy thud, completely shutting out Kingsley's rigid figure.

The moment the car drove off, the imposing aura drained out of Kingsley. His legs trembled uncontrollably, his strength vanishing in an instant.

Xavier and the driver reacted quickly, rushing forward from both sides to grab his arms, barely managing to keep him upright.

Only after hearing the voice message did Kingsley realize—belatedly—that he was still in Switzerland. He stared at the screen, his finger hovering for a long moment, but he didn't type a reply. He simply exited the chat.

After scrolling through his contacts, he dialed Peter's number.

The call connected instantly. Kingsley spoke in a hoarse, commanding rasp. "Come out for a drink. I'll wait at the usual spot."

Peter paused on the other end, stunned, before replying excitedly, "You got it! I'm on my way. Give me thirty minutes!"

Kingsley tossed the phone aside. It hit the car door with a dull thud, but he didn't seem to notice. He just leaned back and closed his eyes.