After Losing 99 Chances, My Ex-Husband Regrets Divorcing Me

Colette, who had been momentarily silenced, suddenly smirked. She leaned closer to my ear and whispered with a mocking tone.

“I’ve never seen a boss so eager to please his assistant before.”

“And introducing his high school friends to her—right in front of his own wife?”

“Looks like that ‘Mrs. Medina’ title of yours is about to be snatched away.”

I didn’t want to stay and continue being humiliated, so I turned to leave.

But before I could walk away, Mallory, eyes red with tears, looked up at Denver and asked softly, “Is Madam upset? I really just wanted to meet your old classmates... I didn’t mean anything by it...”

The next second, Denver called after me sharply, “Michelle, stop making a scene!”

I froze—but didn’t turn around.

Mallory quickly grabbed a bottle of wine from the table, poured herself a glass, and walked over to me.

“Please, Madam. Don’t be angry. If I’ve done anything wrong, I’ll punish myself with a drink—okay?”

She tilted her head back and downed the wine in one gulp, then reached out to hold my hand.

“Now that I’ve drunk, can you stay?” she asked gently. “Otherwise people will really think I’m Mr. Medina’s mistress. Even if you don’t care about me, you should at least save some face for him, right?”

I jerked my hand away—but to my surprise, Mallory staggered backward and fell hard onto the floor.

She crashed into the table behind her, knocking dishes everywhere. Porcelain shattered across the floor, soup splattered up the wall.

She landed on her palms—and a shard of broken porcelain sliced deep into her hand.

Blood spilled instantly.

“Ah!”

Denver’s eyes narrowed, and without a second thought for our classmates watching, he rushed over to her side, pulling out a handkerchief to wrap her hand, his face full of concern.

Then he turned and barked at me, furious. “Michelle, when did your temper get this out of control?”

“This is what I get for spoiling you too much. It’s time you learned a proper lesson!”

He pulled out his phone and immediately called his most trusted assistant. “Freeze all of Michelle's cards. I don’t care how—don’t leave her a single cent!”

The assistant responded with a respectful tone, “Yes, sir.”

Just then, the manager and a few staff members came in. They looked at the mess, then handed over the bill.

“Altogether, including the broken dishes and the room repairs, that’ll be two hundred eighty thousand. May I ask who will be settling the bill?”

Denver curled his lips into a cold smile and pointed at me. “She did it. Let her pay.”

Everyone knew I had stepped away from my career after marrying Denver.

And now that he had frozen all my accounts, there was no way I could come up with two hundred eighty thousand on the spot.

Lorelei instinctively reached into her purse to help, but Denver caught on immediately.

“Secretary Phillips,” he said in a warning tone, “jobs are hard to come by these days. I’d hate to see you lose yours.”

Lorelei froze, trapped in an impossible situation.

Denver looked back at me with a smug challenge in his eyes. “Have a little backbone, Michelle. Don’t drag your friends down with you.”

The implication was clear.

The room went quiet. No one dared speak or step in.

Colette, who had been waiting all night for this moment, finally burst into applause.

“Well, well. The so-called genius girl from high school—can’t even pay for a broken table without her husband, huh?”

“Guess you’re no different from those women who live off men after all.”

I raised my head and stared at Denver, suddenly seeing him for exactly what he was.

He wanted me to beg.

To surrender. To bow my head and come crawling back to him.

But instead, I smiled coldly and pulled a card from my purse, handing it to the server.

“Here. Charge it.”