Her Ex-husband Is A God Of War

5

Charles laughed, bitter and low. "Business partner? That's what you're calling it now?”

“Wasn't it a business meeting? Didn’t you see the laptop and documents when you came in?” Emmy fired, eyes flashing with anger at Charles’s shocked expression.

“Mom, you should’ve seen how Charles embarrassed me last night,” she continued, voice dripping with bitterness.

“Mr. Roger stormed out in anger. It was humiliating, hearing that he had… other intentions. You know Mr. Roger, right? Mom?”

“How could you?” Charles’s mother-in-law shouted, fists clenched. “After everything my daughter has sacrificed for you, this is how you repay her? I won’t let this slide. You will pay for this.”

“I managed to apologize to Mr. Roger yesterday,” Emmy said, her voice now low and defeated, “but I’m not sure he’ll want to continue the partnership.”

Roger couldn’t help but smile quietly. This was turning out to be more entertaining than he expected. “I’ll start the divorce papers and have them ready before the day’s end.” He turned and walked inside.

Charles’s mother-in-law grabbed him by the collar, shaking him fiercely. “Are you out of your mind? You choose to solve this by divorcing? What have you ever given my daughter? Nothing!”

“Exactly,” Charles said softly, his voice steady. “That’s why I’m taking back the nothing I gave her.”

“Mom, that’s not what matters now,” Emmy said sharply. She still couldn’t understand why Charles didn’t have any bruises. According to Roger, he should have been badly beaten by now.

“Tell him to delete the pictures he showed us last night,” Emmy demanded.

“What pictures?” her mother asked, confused.

Emmy’s cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and anger. Last night had been the best night of her life—until Charles ruined it.

“He showed us a picture… probably Photoshop. It’s a terrible fake. He might use it to ruin Mr. Roger’s reputation.”

“I thought you said no one would believe me,” Charles said with a small, mocking smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Delete it, or I’ll make you,” his mother-in-law said sternly.

Charles looked at them both and shook his head slowly. They were a lost cause. Without another word, he turned and walked toward the bedroom.

He opened a drawer and found the necklace. With a sigh of relief, he picked it up.

“You don’t have to divorce me if you delete those pictures,” Emmy said softly, stepping closer.

Charles said nothing. He moved toward the door, but she blocked his path.

“It was just business. Stop acting like a child,” she said sharply. “I’m only doing this because I don’t want Mr. Roger to have to deal with you. You know how powerful he is.”

“Since when did you start caring about me?” Charles asked coldly.

Emmy hissed under her breath. “Fine. Let’s divorce then. I’ve had enough of you anyway. When I leave your life, you’ll realize how worthless and useless you really are.” She stormed off, pulling out her phone.

“Meet me at the court by ten a.m.,” she shouted over her shoulder. She would never give Charles the satisfaction of initiating the divorce first.

But one thing was certain—Charles would come crawling back soon. Too late for her to care.

……….

Outside the house, the latest BMW sports car pulled over in front of Charles.

The owner of the car came down. He is the owner of the Tyrell Williams group, the second biggest consortium in New York. He bowed slightly in front of Charles.

“Good morning, sir.”

Charles nodded. “How can I help you?”

“This is my business card, sir,” the man gave a black exquisite business card to Charles.

Charles collected it. “So…?”

“I need your help for two days, sir.”

“I'm not interested.”

“In return, I'll do anything you want for you, sir. Even if you want a part in my stock, you'll—”

“I'm still not interested.”

The man raised his head. “I will offer you any jewelry you want, one of my subsidiary—”

“Does that mean you can recognize jewelry if I give them to you?”

“Yes, sir. I have been in the business for more than thirty years, sir.”

Charles brought out the necklace and showed it to the man. The man looked at it closely, a frown on his face.

“There are only ten kinds of this necklace in the world, sir,” the man said.

Ten? The owner of this jewelry killed his brother.

“Can you look into it for the owners of the jewelry?” Charles asked.

“Yes, sir. I'll figure it out within two days, sir.”

Charles cleared his throat and put the necklace back in his pocket. “What do you want me to do?”