The Ex-Wife's Triumph novel Chapter 86

The next day, the first thing Kingsley did upon waking was turn off airplane mode. Unread messages flooded the screen instantly.

He glanced at the group chat first, his finger sliding across the screen without lingering before exiting the interface. When his gaze landed on Sean's message, he replied with a brief sentence: [You're paying the penalty.]

After sending it, he tossed the phone onto the pillow, got up to change, and went to work out.

An hour later, a freshly dressed Kingsley went downstairs and ran into Old Mrs. Sherwood, who had just finished her morning exercises in the garden.

Kingsley spoke first, "Morning. What time did you wake up?"

Old Mrs. Sherwood smiled and replied, "Never mind what time I woke up. At my age, I don't need much sleep anyway."

She sat down on the sofa, and Wilma quickly brought out warm tea. Kingsley smirked, teasing, "With energy like that, you could go back to work."

"I'm an old woman. You want to drain these old bones dry at the company?" The matriarch scolded him playfully, then, noticing Shane waiting nearby, urged Kingsley, "Hurry up and eat so you can go to work. Shane is waiting."

Kingsley didn't respond but walked toward the dining room. Sitting down, he looked at Shane. "Have you eaten? If not, join me."

"I've eaten!" Shane replied quickly, then took out his tablet to report the day's schedule.

After hearing the itinerary, Kingsley suddenly spoke. "Instruct finance to wire twenty million to the Sterling Group."

"Okay." As Shane responded, he understood the situation. This was clearly the penalty fee. It looked like he wanted Miss Lynwood back in the country.

At Cosmoscope Group, Kingsley walked into his office, his brow furrowing slightly at the mountain of files on his desk. Just as he sat down, his phone rang. It was Sean.

"The twenty million arrived! Mr. Sherwood really bled for this just to get someone back. I guess this pocket change means nothing to you!" The voice on the other end was cheerful.

Kingsley tapped his finger absently on the desk, his tone teasing. "Since it's pocket change, why don't you pay it for me?"

Sean raised his voice immediately, distancing himself. "Don't do that. We aren't related. I can't afford that kind of money."

Kingsley didn't engage further. He simply hung up.

In Switzerland, evening had fallen. Lucy sat on the bedroom carpet working on blueprints, but her eyes constantly darted to Seven on the bed. She had to monitor his temperature closely, fearing the fever might return.

Her phone buzzed while she typed. It was a message from Jules: [Sister, aren't you afraid they'll actually send the penalty money? Twenty million is a drop in the bucket for them. What will you do then?]

Lucy freed one hand to send a voice message, her tone calm: [Mr. Holt, I suggest you read the contract carefully. The clause only states the penalty must be paid. It doesn't stipulate that I must go there personally.]

She immediately turned to check on Seven, whose face was flushed red. She frantically grabbed the thermometer. Then she rushed to the bathroom, wrung out a warm towel, and gently wiped his forehead and palms again and again, her movements meticulous and urgent.

Seeing the number on the thermometer, Lucy's heart suspended in her chest. She poured the fever medicine and leaned over to gently wake the sleeping Seven. Already restless from the fever, the little boy frowned, opened his eyes, and began to cry pitifully.

Sean shot back: [Is there a difference? We are a team. It was my oversight, but treat that twenty million as a gift to your ex-wife. Don't ask me for it!]

Kingsley ignored him and went back to work. Suddenly, there was a soft knock at the door.

"Come in!" he said without looking up.

Paula entered with a cup of coffee. "Mr. Kingsley, your coffee."

Kingsley took a sip and frowned. "Did you change the beans?"

"Yes, the brand we used before is out of stock, so I switched," Paula explained softly.

Kingsley took another sip and said indifferently, "That's all. Go rest."

Paula didn't leave immediately. After hesitating, she asked, "The birthday gifts from the brands for Miss Lynwood—should they go into storage like in previous years? There are quite a lot of them now."

"Leave them," Kingsley said flatly.

As soon as he spoke, he picked up his phone, opened the work group, found the account with Seven's artistic signature as the avatar, and tapped "Add Friend." In the remark box, he entered only "Kingsley" and hit send.