Wife’s Bitter Regret

My head buzzed, then went completely blank.

“Ten years… and you could just walk away?”

She stared at me like I was a complete stranger.

“Yes, I’m done!

“Why on earth would I entrust my whole life to a penniless bum like you!”

Every word hit like a sledgehammer, crushing the last bit of hope inside me.

Lawrence stepped in smoothly, his voice dripping with smug satisfaction.

“Quintus, take a good look at yourself. Stay with you, Ysa gets nothing but a hard life. Stay with me and she’ll live a life of luxury and privilege.”

He strode over, grabbed a chair nearby, and smashed it at me.

“You piece of trash, get out of here!”

I wiped my forehead and my palm was stained with blood.

Several security guards suddenly rushed in and pinned me to the ground.

I struggled fiercely, but I couldn’t break free from their restraint.

“Perfect timing. This man is trespassing. Drag him out now!” Lawrence ordered arrogantly.

The guards wasted no time. They pulled out their batons and brought them down hard on my back.

Lawrence leaned close to my ear and whispered, “Your wife gets incredibly sensitive at the slightest touch. Wild as hell.”

As soon as he finished speaking, a guard raised his foot and kicked me hard in the head.

My vision went dark from the intense pain, and a strong, metallic smell filled my nose.

They hauled me up by the arms and dragged me out like a dead animal.

Still not satisfied, Lawrence caught up and ground his foot into my fingers while keeping up with his curses, “With your pathetic, penniless look, you still think you deserve Ysa? Go take a p*ss and look at yourself in the mirror, eh?”

Ysabel stood to the side, watching coldly as if I were nothing to her.

Something in me died completely.

A decade of love and devotion vanished into thin air at that moment. Not even a trace of warmth left.

As if remembering something, Lawrence yanked his foot back and turned to go back inside.

When he came out again, he was holding a black urn. It contained my mother’s ashes!

My vision shrank sharply and my blood ran cold.

“Lawrence Yelm! Give me back the ashes!” I screamed, my voice trembling uncontrollably.

He glanced down at the urn and a twisted smile spread across his face.

“Give it back? Sure. But you’d better… catch it.”

Before he even finished speaking, he let go.

Crash.

The urn hit the floor and shattered into pieces.

My mother’s ashes were scattered everywhere.

How dare he!

My eyes turned bloodshot as I glared at him, my throat raging, “You—!”

Before words could leave my mouth, Ysabel’s icy voice cut me off, “Why is it taking this long to drag someone out?”

And here I thought she might at least show a shred of compassion, but her words were like poison-tipped spikes, piercing through my heart.

She knew better than anyone what my mother meant to me.

She knew full well that the urn was the only way I could still feel close to my mother.

Yet she allowed Lawrence to barge into the room where my mother’s ashes were kept, letting him ruin it.

Ysabel pulled off the ring on her ring finger and hurled it at my face as though discarding garbage.

“Take your junk and get out!”

Even a ring worth over a hundred million meant nothing to her.

Her voice held no warmth. Only bone-chilling contempt.

“Quintus, stop clinging to me like a leech. It makes me sick.”

I lay sprawled on the cold floor, like a pitiful stray animal.

Their arrogant, shrill laughter came in waves, crashing against my ears.

The unbearable mockery and whispers tore apart what little dignity I had left.

Humiliation and rage surged through me, crashing violently inside my chest.

With bloodied fingers, I scrolled through my contacts to a number without a name.

I dialed it.

“I, Quintus Gill, have decided to immediately terminate all cooperation between Bluebell Group and the Yelms, no matter the cost!”