Chapter 149
Evelyn Spoke First
"Tomorrow is Saturday. Are you free?"
"Morning or afternoon?" Dominic asked.
His voice was deep, rough—yet still carried that same magnetic pull that had drawn her in four years ago.
"Morning!" Evelyn answered.
The alcohol had dulled her inhibitions. She felt reckless, words tumbling out before she could stop them.
"Don’t forget your ID and our marriage certificate. If things go smoothly, we could sign the divorce papers right then and there!"
Dominic hadn’t expected her to be this bold.
This wasn’t at all what Nathan had described.
"You’ll regret this, Evelyn," Dominic said, his grip tightening around his phone, his Adam’s apple bobbing sharply.
"I won’t regret a damn thing!"
His words had struck a nerve.
"If we finalize the divorce tomorrow, I’m buying fireworks and setting them off for twenty-four hours straight!" She burst into laughter, the sound bright and unhinged.
Dominic listened, his jaw clenching. Something wasn’t right.
"Are you drunk, Evelyn?"
She never used to drink.
Not a single drop.
And now, here she was—slurring, laughing, completely wasted.
A storm of fury ignited inside him.
"What’s it to you?! I’ll drink if I want to. Nobody controls me!" she snapped, defiance dripping from every word.
"We’re getting divorced tomorrow," Dominic growled through gritted teeth.
And it was true—no one controlled Evelyn Thorne.
As CEO of Apex Innovations, she was worth billions.
Their marriage? A technicality.
No, not even that.
Everyone knew they were already over.
So why drag it out?
Evelyn clapped her hands together, mocking.
Dominic’s temper flared, and he ended the call before he said something he’d regret.
The moment the screen went dark, Evelyn let out a hollow laugh before collapsing back onto the bed.
"Finally free. Finally done."
She chuckled, staring at the ceiling as hot tears spilled from the corners of her eyes.
"Dominic… I do regret it… I regret ever meeting you. I regret marrying you. I regret loving you…"
The next morning, sunlight streamed through the windows as Evelyn stirred, rubbing her throbbing temples.
Her head pounded from last night’s reckless drinking.
She fumbled for her phone, squinting at a message from Dominic.
Sent at midnight—an address.
She dropped the phone and pressed her fingers to her temples, waiting for the pain to dull before dragging herself out of bed.
By ten, she arrived at the private café Dominic had reserved.
Dressed in a sleek black dress, hair pulled back, light makeup applied—but none of it could hide the exhaustion in her bloodshot eyes.
She ordered a black coffee.
Thirty minutes later, she finished it.
By eleven, she was on her second cup.
She didn’t order a third.
Instead, she pulled out her phone and dialed Dominic’s number.
They were supposed to meet at ten.
So where the hell was he?
Had he changed his mind?
Or was something wrong?