Chapter 82

Seeing Alexander was about to leave, Lucas shot up from his seat. "Hey, what's going on? You barely touched your drink. Leaving already?"

His stomach twisted with guilt—had he accidentally insulted Alexander's pride?

Alexander smirked, running his tongue over his bottom lip. "Drinking with you is dull."

Lucas slammed his glass down, amber liquid sloshing over the rim. "We swore we'd get wasted tonight!"

Frustration burned in his chest.

After carrying Claire home yesterday, she'd stunned him by shoving divorce papers in his face without warning.

Then came the sharp click of the lock. No explanations. No arguments. Just cold, silent rejection.

He'd spent the night on the couch, staring at the ceiling.

But the humiliation didn't end there.

Somehow, while he was dead asleep, Claire had the entire sofa—with him still on it—dragged outside like discarded furniture.

She'd literally thrown him out of their home.

Lucas Bennett finally stirred awake when mosquitoes swarmed him on the lawn outside the door, leaving angry red welts all over his skin.

He still couldn’t comprehend why Claire Dawson wanted a divorce.

The memory was hazy, but he recalled that night a month ago—returning home drunk, stripping off his shirt, and stumbling into the shower. Then Isabella Rhodes had called.

His phone had been left on the counter. Claire answered it.

By the time he stepped out, dripping wet, she was already packing her things, her voice ice-cold as she demanded a separation.

It made no sense to him.

All he did was forget his coat at Maple Leaf Café while networking with clients. Isabella had simply called to remind him about it.

Yet Claire was ready to throw away their marriage over something so insignificant.

The thumping bass from the private room snapped Lucas back to reality. He watched Alexander Whitmore stride toward the exit and scoffed. "Alex, you're seriously leaving? What’s the point? It’s not like you can even perform."

Alexander froze.

Alexander spun around, his piercing gaze locking onto Lucas. His jaw clenched so tightly the muscles visibly twitched. "Eighteen and one-eighty. How dare you imply I'm inadequate?"

Lucas blinked, momentarily speechless, before breaking into an impressed grin. "Those numbers—length and stamina? Damn, Alex! You've been holding out on us."

Without another word, Alexander turned away, his silence louder than any retort.

That night, Evelyn stayed over at Claire's apartment.

Earlier, Claire had raved about her new high-definition projector, insisting Evelyn join her for a movie marathon. By the time the credits rolled on the last film, the clock had long passed midnight. Too exhausted to commute, Evelyn texted Alexander and crashed in Claire's guest room.

They stayed up whispering under the covers like teenagers, exchanging confessions until their eyelids grew heavy.

Monday morning arrived with cruel haste.

Evelyn nearly face-planted into her office door.

She sprinted through Titan Capital's lobby, heels clacking against marble, just as Ethan Caldwell exited the opposite revolving door.

Her momentum carried her forward like a gust of wind—

Ethan Caldwell turned abruptly, sensing movement behind him.

His gaze only captured the fleeting silhouette of a woman slipping through the glass doors and into the elevator.

When he didn’t follow, Nathan Reeves glanced back, confused. "What is it?"

But the hallway was empty.

"We need to leave now," Nathan urged, checking his watch. "Morning traffic is brutal. If we don’t hurry, we’ll miss our flight to the investor meeting."

Ethan exhaled sharply before turning away.

His fingers curled around his silent phone.

Not a single message from Evelyn Carter in days.

He shoved it back into his pocket.

"Did you find out who her blind date was?" he demanded suddenly.

Nathan hesitated, then nodded. "It’s Ryan Fletcher."

Ethan stiffened. Disbelief twisted his expression.

"Ryan? My own cousin?" His voice dropped dangerously. "She went on a date with him?"

He paced the polished floor, agitation radiating off him.

The betrayal stung sharper than he expected.

The afternoon sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Titan Capital Group, casting long shadows across my office.

Nathan Reeves stood by my desk, his expression unreadable as he handed me a file.

"Alexander, I think you should see this," he said quietly.

I flipped open the folder, my eyes scanning the contents. Photos of Evelyn Carter—my wife—meeting with Ryan Fletcher at Maple Leaf Café.

My grip tightened on the papers.

Ryan wasn't just anyone. He was Ethan Caldwell's cousin, and Ethan had made it clear he wasn’t done with Evelyn.

Nathan cleared his throat. "Do you think she's trying to send you a message?"

I exhaled sharply, tossing the file onto my desk.

Evelyn had been distant lately, but this? Meeting with Ryan behind my back?

"Or," I said slowly, "is someone trying to manipulate the situation?"

Nathan frowned. "You think Ryan has his own agenda?"

I leaned back in my chair, my mind racing.

The game was far from over. And if Ryan thought he could play me, he was about to learn how wrong he was.

Because when it came to Evelyn, I didn’t share.

And I certainly didn’t lose.