Billionaire's Regret: Losing Me And Our Son - Chapter 42: Chapter 42

I assumed we were heading to the office, but to my surprise, the car pulled into Quinn's estate instead.
Quinn was sitting on the couch when I walked in, his eyes dark and unreadable.
I bit my lip, quietly saying, "Thank you. I'll... pay you back for the money..."
"Take a look at this," he interrupted, tossing a tablet at me.
The screen displayed a stock trading board. In just a couple of hours that afternoon, Madden Group's stock price had dropped by 10%.
"What happened?" I asked, stunned.
Quinn narrowed his eyes, his face turning dark. He sneered, "Isn't it all thanks to your sweet little sister?"
My stomach dropped, and I quickly pulled out my phone to check the news. The headline on the front page was about me and Quinn secretly divorcing.
As the head of a publicly traded company, any hint of scandal—no matter how small—could send the stock price into a nosedive.
But it wasn't entirely my fault.
I swallowed the bitterness and looked up. "Thanks to my sister," I said. "But surely your girlfriend played a part, Mr. Madden?"
Quinn wasn't blind. I knew he could see that Skylar had been manipulated by Diana. He just wasn't willing to admit it. He had always let Diana get away with anything.
The more I thought about it, the angrier I got. Without thinking, I snapped, "Anyway, we're already divorced. The news will come out sooner or later. Why not just let it happen now? Madden Group's PR team is great at handling these things. They can spin a story, put out a press release, and by tomorrow, everyone will be praising how smoothly you handled the divorce."
"Natalia, is this your solution?" Quinn stood up, his face hardening, his mood darkening instantly.
His brow furrowed, and I felt a chill run through the room. I instinctively took a step back, expecting him to snap like before. That suffocating moment from last time had left a mark, and my body reacted before I could stop it.
Quinn's dark eyes flickered as he studied me, but he didn't move toward me like he usually did.
After a brief silence, he spoke coldly, "The day after tomorrow, you're coming with me to a charity gala."
"Me? In what role?" I asked, instinctively wondering if he meant as his employee.
"My wife," Quinn replied, frowning in slight irritation. "We're not announcing the divorce just yet."
"Why?" I asked, genuinely puzzled. Was he really that concerned? Was it just about Madden Group's stock?
"When and how we make it public is up to me, not you," he said, his tone sharp and dismissive. "As a confidentiality fee, I'll give you 3 million dollars."
I blinked, momentarily stunned by the offer. 3 million would cover the debt I owed to my foster parents.
"Deal," I said, agreeing without hesitation.
"Anything else?" I asked flatly. "If not, I'm leaving."
I turned to leave, but Quinn stopped me, his voice low and commanding. "You're staying here for now."
With the media frenzy at its peak, there were probably reporters lurking around the villa. If they found out we were separated, the divorce rumors would be completely confirmed.
For 3 million dollars, I could endure a little inconvenience.
Later that night, I tried to head for the guest room, but Quinn blocked me again. His voice, as usual, was firm and commanding. "Sleep in the master bedroom."
"Are the reporters really going to break into the villa?" I asked, confused.
"Finn will pick me up tomorrow morning," he replied seriously, without a hint of humor.
I paused. "Finn will only wait in the living room. He won't barge into the bedroom..."
Quinn paused for a moment, his eyes narrowing. "What if he does?" he said coldly.