My CEO Husband Hired His Ex - Chapter 3: Chapter 3
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Lucian's face went rigid for a split second, panic flashing in his eyes before he schooled his features. "Who's name did I say?"
"Couldn't tell. It was too slurred."
I watched his shoulders relax slightly before he reached for me again.
"Couldn't hear properly? Then how do you know it wasn't your name?"
A bitter taste filled my mouth.
I took a deliberate step back, my voice turning icy. "I said I couldn't hear to save your dignity. You know damn well who you were calling."
His jaw clenched, guilt flickering across his face before being replaced by that infuriating calm facade.
He pinched the bridge of his nose and snapped, "Jesus, Selene, when did you become so paranoid? First Grace during her internship, now this. Don't you have anything better to do than imagine things? Maybe focus on improving yourself instead."
I almost barked out a laugh.
"Funny you should mention that, Mr. Blake. Seems you've forgotten who stood by you when this company was just some pipe dream."
The past was always his weak spot. His expression darkened instantly.
"What's that supposed to mean? Now you're taking credit for my success?"
I'd been happy to stay in the shadows all these years, letting him take the spotlight while I propped him up.
But hearing him dismiss my sacrifices cut deeper than I expected.
I turned to leave, but his hand shot out, fingers digging into my arm.
"We're not done here. Where do you get off walking away like that?"
The sudden yank threw me off balance. My hip slammed into the glass coffee table, my arm dragging across the edge. Blood welled up in thin red lines.
His anger dissolved the moment he saw the blood. "Selene—"
A sharp knock at the door cut him off. He dropped my arm like it burned him, retreating behind his desk like a coward.
I pushed myself up slowly, feeling something hollow take root in my chest.
Marina stood in the doorway, lips curved in that practiced pout. "Oops, bad timing?"
I brushed past her without a glance.
Back at my desk, office gossip reached my ears:
"Did you see where Mr. Blake put the new girl's desk? Right outside his office. Real subtle."
"Yeah, about as subtle as a neon sign," I muttered, barely listening.
My phone was already in my hand, fingers flying over the screen: [Draft the divorce papers. Make it quick.]
"Couldn't tell. It was too slurred."
I watched his shoulders relax slightly before he reached for me again.
"Couldn't hear properly? Then how do you know it wasn't your name?"
A bitter taste filled my mouth.
I took a deliberate step back, my voice turning icy. "I said I couldn't hear to save your dignity. You know damn well who you were calling."
His jaw clenched, guilt flickering across his face before being replaced by that infuriating calm facade.
He pinched the bridge of his nose and snapped, "Jesus, Selene, when did you become so paranoid? First Grace during her internship, now this. Don't you have anything better to do than imagine things? Maybe focus on improving yourself instead."
I almost barked out a laugh.
"Funny you should mention that, Mr. Blake. Seems you've forgotten who stood by you when this company was just some pipe dream."
The past was always his weak spot. His expression darkened instantly.
"What's that supposed to mean? Now you're taking credit for my success?"
I'd been happy to stay in the shadows all these years, letting him take the spotlight while I propped him up.
But hearing him dismiss my sacrifices cut deeper than I expected.
I turned to leave, but his hand shot out, fingers digging into my arm.
"We're not done here. Where do you get off walking away like that?"
The sudden yank threw me off balance. My hip slammed into the glass coffee table, my arm dragging across the edge. Blood welled up in thin red lines.
His anger dissolved the moment he saw the blood. "Selene—"
A sharp knock at the door cut him off. He dropped my arm like it burned him, retreating behind his desk like a coward.
I pushed myself up slowly, feeling something hollow take root in my chest.
Marina stood in the doorway, lips curved in that practiced pout. "Oops, bad timing?"
I brushed past her without a glance.
Back at my desk, office gossip reached my ears:
"Did you see where Mr. Blake put the new girl's desk? Right outside his office. Real subtle."
"Yeah, about as subtle as a neon sign," I muttered, barely listening.
My phone was already in my hand, fingers flying over the screen: [Draft the divorce papers. Make it quick.]
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