The Ex-Wife's Triumph novel Chapter 32

As soon as Kingsley returned to his office, he sent a message to Thurston: [Thurston, 150 million. This debt is on you.]

Almost instantly, Thurston's reply popped up: [Keep dreaming.]

Kingsley's finger paused, and he typed back three words: [Just you wait.]

He casually checked his phone and saw that the trending topics had quietly subsided. His tense expression softened slightly.

Putting down the phone, he lowered his eyes to the keyboard, tapping lightly as he began to review the documents on his desktop.

Just then, his ringtone broke the silence. The caller ID showed Bacchus Sherwood.

Kingsley pressed answer. His brother's deep, pleasant, yet somewhat stern voice came through the receiver.

"Can't you keep a lower profile? You know Grandma doesn't like her, yet you took her to a gala."

"Last night was an accident," Kingsley said, his voice cold and devoid of warmth.

"You can support her however you want, just don't flaunt it and embarrass us all." As the eldest brother, Bacchus's tone was full of warning. He paused before adding, "Are you coming back to the Manor for lunch? Dad is back from his inspection tour. Let's eat together."

Kingsley picked up a cigar from the table, flicking the metal lighter. With a sharp click, the flame ignited, and smoke began to curl upward.

His voice carried a hint of nonchalance. "I'll be there. I might as well go back and help the old lady cool off."

"Just try not to make her angry; that would be better than anything," Bacchus sighed helplessly.

Kingsley chuckled softly and said no more. "Talk to you."

***

Susan happened to be coming down from upstairs at that moment—she had just delivered tea to Winston.

They bumped into each other at the landing.

Kingsley gave her a look, his voice even and firm. "You went over budget. That comes out of next month's."

"What did you say?" Susan's face changed instantly, her voice full of disapproval. She took two steps forward, raising her voice in accusation. "You're willing to spend money keeping that woman on the side, yet you begrudge your own mother a little spending money?"

Kingsley countered, "Ask around. Which woman spends money like you do? Do you have no restraint?"

Kingsley was long accustomed to her rhetoric. Thinking of the dense list of jewelry and handbag purchases on the monthly bill, he frowned, his tone turning colder. "I'm going bankrupt. You might as well ask Grandfather to take you back, so you can resume being Ms. Talmadge. It would save you from suffering here."

This retort choked Susan into silence. Her face flushed red with anger, and she glared at him viciously. "Kingsley! I am your mother! Is this how you speak to your elders? Where did your manners go?"