Too Late to Regret My Ex-Husband's Obsession Couldn't Stop Me

Bronson noticed the strange, distant look in Estelle’s eyes, and before he could process it, he was pulling her into his arms, his voice laced with concern. "Estelle, what’s wrong?"

"Don’t touch me," Estelle whispered, weakly pushing him away. She wasn’t sure if she had spoken aloud, but all she could do was repeat, "Don’t touch me."

Annoyance flickered in Bronson’s eyes. His grip tightened, forcing her to meet his gaze. "What’s all this fuss about? Even if the case is judged, the other side will get a maximum of three years. With their family’s influence, they might be out in less than a year. They don’t have the money to fight back. This is the best outcome. What’s bothering you?"

"The best outcome?" Estelle scoffed, bitterness dripping from her voice. "People like you could never understand." With that, she raised her hand and slapped him hard across the face.

Bronson tilted his head, anger flaring, his jaw tightening, ready to lash out. But before he could, Estelle’s phone rang, cutting the moment short.

It was a call from Tala.

Estelle immediately shoved Bronson away, her hand trembling as she answered the call.

"Tala, listen to me; the case still has a chance. I…."

"Sister, you’re abandoning me too."

Tala’s voice carried the weight of a storm, and in that instant, Estelle understood exactly what Tala was planning. Her body went cold, her hands numb. She could barely keep hold of the phone, her fingers shaking as she managed to switch to speakerphone.

"Tala, I will help you win the case. Please, trust me, just once more. I beg you."

"It’s too late. No one can help me now."

Before Estelle could respond, the sound of something heavy crashing echoed through the phone. Her grip faltered, and she collapsed to the floor, the weight of the moment overwhelming her.

Bronson watched, his expression unreadable, as the reality of what had happened sank in. Despite all his efforts to compensate, Tala still chose this tragic end. Now, it all made sense; he understood what Estelle had been holding on to.

"I’ll send someone to save her. It’s not too late!" Bronson pulled Estelle up, about to call for help when the door suddenly burst open.

His assistant froze at the sight of Estelle, his mouth snapping shut as his eyes widened in surprise, the words he had meant to speak dying in his throat.

Bronson’s anger surged like a storm, his voice sharp as he demanded, "What’s the hold-up? Spit it out!"

"Young Master, Young Madam’s mother’s ashes were taken by Soleil. Our people followed her, but they were too late. By the time we found her, she had…"

The words from the phone echoed in Estelle’s mind, but her thoughts seemed to freeze. Her heart dropped, and she felt the weight of the silence pressing down on her.

"What happened?" she asked, her voice tight, unable to stop the panic that twisted in her chest.

The assistant hesitated, casting a glance at Bronson before closing his eyes in resignation. "She scattered the ashes in the sea."