The Ex-Wife's Triumph novel Chapter 23

At The Fletcher Group headquarters.

Thurston had been living at the office for the past two days.

Though Jane never spelled out how he could make it right, he knew exactly what would appease her—and he knew just where to aim his frustration.

Grabbing his car keys, he strode out, colliding right into his assistant, Nike, who was coming in to announce a meeting.

"Mr. Fletcher, there's a meeting in fifteen minutes," Nike reminded him hurriedly.

"Move it to this afternoon."

Thurston didn't look back, his long legs carrying him toward the exit. His voice was wrapped in frost. "I'm going to settle a score with Kingsley."

Before Nike could get a word in, Thurston had already stepped into his private elevator.

Settle a score with Kingsley? That clearly meant a fight.

Nike didn't dare delay. He immediately pulled out his phone and called Jane.

The phone rang only a few times before being answered. Nike spoke urgently, "Mrs. Fletcher, Mr. Fletcher has gone to settle things with Kingsley!"

On the other end, Jane gave a soft "Mmm," her tone as calm as if discussing the weather.

Nike got anxious. "But there's a board meeting this afternoon!"

"Your Mr. Fletcher isn't that fragile. He won't be disabled."

Jane turned the steering wheel, smoothly changing lanes to the right.

"The board meeting proceeds as planned. At most... he'll be leaving with a few bruises on his face."

She paused, then added, "Oh, right. Make sure to have a face mask ready for him."

Nike was dumbfounded but managed a stammered, "Oh, got it."

Hanging up, he felt inexplicably sorry for Thurston—betrayed by his best friend, kicked out by his wife.

Twenty minutes later, the brawl ended in mutual destruction.

Both men, sporting similar injuries on the corners of their mouths, sat side by side on the carpet in front of the sofa.

Suit jackets were tossed aside, shirt tails untucked and messy, wrinkled. But somehow, a sense of peace had settled right there with the mess.

Thurston hissed, touching the corner of his mouth. "The biggest regret of my life is knowing you. Because of your mess, I'm sleeping at the office. I miss my daughter but don't dare go home alone for fear of getting yelled at. Are you human? You've practically made me a widower."

Kingsley sat with one leg bent, the other extended. He lit a cigarette, clamped it between his lips, and glanced at him. "That's on you. What, you got nowhere to go?"

He took a deep drag and tossed the cigarette pack to Thurston, snorting coldly.

"Of all the heiresses, you had to choose the one who could control you. You asked for it."

Through the curling smoke, his tone suddenly dropped.

"You have the nerve to complain? My child is gone. You are all accomplices. I'm remembering this debt."