2025-02-24 17:53:52Javier Everhart stood outside the bedroom door, clutching a bouquet of white lilies—the ones Camila had once claimed were her favorite.
He wondered if the past few years had been nothing more than an elaborate joke played at his expense.
His grip on the flowers tightened as he heard the unmistakable sounds of pleasure coming from behind the door.
The moans of a woman and a man intertwined, and Javier knew exactly whose voices they were.
His wife. Camila Valverde.
He had planned to surprise her today, but who would have thought that the flowers he brought would be met with betrayal?
"Ah! Honey! Deeper!"
Camila’s voice from behind the door made Javier freeze.
"Better than your husband?"
A man’s voice followed, seeking validation.
Camila laughed, mocking.
"Of course, you’re better in every way. Javier is utterly useless, both in bed and in everything else."
The man let out a booming laugh.
What the crap are they talking about?
Javier clenched his fists, his knuckles turning white. Rage almost burst his blood vessels.
He wanted to rush in at once, but his legs almost lost control, rooted to the ground, unable to move.
Before he could make any move, he heard Camila speak again, her voice dripping with desire.
"Mateo, darling… is my promotion guaranteed in your hands?"
Javier’s eyes widened.
That filthy bastard?
Mateo Waverly.
Camila’s boss at the company where she worked.
He was a disgusting notorious playboy, because rumor has it that he raped underage girls, got them pregnant, and then used money to settle the matter after
She slept with such a bastard, and it’s just for a promotion?
"Of course. You have nothing to worry about as long as you’re in my arms," Mateo said smugly.
“And besides, my company is about to finalize a collaboration with the prestigious Cortes family group. Once that happens, our family will rise to become one of the top-tier families here!”
Camila giggled, "You're the best, much better than that useless Javier!"
Her sweet voice now made Javier feel extremely nauseous.
Javier barely noticed the flowers in his hand being squeezed out of shape, just like his heart that had been crushed by betrayal.
"I’ll divorce that loser soon," Camila declared confidently. "I’m tired of dealing with him. It’s time to end this marriage."
"A wise decision, dear. I’m lucky to have you."
"That idiot Javier has no idea what’s going on." Mateo laughed mockingly.
“He should just cut off his dick and start wearing skirts!”
“Oh! You naughty! Faster!”
Javier didn’t think as he moved, his body acting with instinct, his heart pounding as he shoved the bedroom door open with a force that rattled the walls.
Camila’s eyes widened in shock at Javier’s sudden appearance.
"Javier!"
Camila's scream tore through the penthouse like shattered glass.
She clawed the satin sheets to her exposed breast, like a whore clutching at last-minute virtue.
Camila instinctively tried to explain, "Javier, it's not what you think. Mateo and I..."
The scene burned itself into retinas: his wife's flushed skin pressed against the leather headboard, her naked boss lounging like a panther who'd claimed fresh territory.
Mateo Waverly didn't even bother covering himself, the jagged scar across his abdomen rippling as he chuckled.
"Wow, loser, I didn't expect you home this early."
Suddenly, Mateo pulled back the blanket, revealing Camila's exquisite naked body.
He grinned and said to Javier, "Poor guy, want to watch a live show?"
"My mistake," Javier’s voice cut colder than Siberian steel.
"I forgot adultery requires appointment slots now."
The tone of Javier made Camila embarrassed and angry.
She stopped explaining, "I must have been blind to marry you. You piece of shit!"
“Mateo was totally different!”
“Different?”
Javier tilted his head, anger flashing in his otherwise unbothered eyes.
"I assume you mean the different kind where he cycles through women like seasonal trends, discards you when he’s bored, and moves on to the next desperate employee willing to trade dignity for a raise?"
“Oh, please.”
Camila rolled her eyes, exasperation creeping into her voice.
“At least I am getting a promotion, and all those beautiful gems. And you? We have been married for three years, but you only sent me this cheap bracelet, calling it a family heirloom. Garbage!”
Camila let out a derisive laugh.
“Mateo’s expert friend appraised it—it’s worthless junk. I threw it away.”
She pointed to the room corner, “That’s where you and your garbage should stay, the trash can!”
Javier's breath stilled; the world momentarily muted around him.
That bracelet had been his father’s, the only piece of his family’s history that he had left.
Camila disdainfully said, "I will divorce you. From then on, I am no longer your wife!"
Javier stared at her, feeling immensely disappointed.
Camila, when did you become such a money worshipper?
He went to the trash can before his mind could catch up. He cannot lose his father’s last treasure.
Bending down, his fingers sifted through the discarded tissues, empty cosmetic bottles and used condoms until he found the cool, familiar weight of the bracelet.
His father’s legacy was abandoned like refuse.
"Wow, really digging through the trash, huh?"
"Guess that’s fitting—since that’s where you belong now."
He spat on Javier's head, who was bowing down searching for the bracelet.
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CHAPTER 192
It was a quiet Tuesday morning when Javier Everhart stepped into the glass-walled lobby of The Crescent Club—a private investment circle notorious for accepting only the elite. The kind who wore arrogance like silk and couldn’t tell the difference between old money and earned power.Javier’s coat was the same. Simple. Grey. No designer logo. His shoes, though polished, had walked through more construction sites and factories than luxury ballrooms. He didn’t look like he belonged—and that was precisely the point.The receptionist, a young man with gel-slicked hair and a barely concealed smirk, looked up from behind the counter.“Deliveries are through the back entrance,” he said, not bothering to look twice.Javier’s eyes didn’t flicker. “I’m here for the investors’ roundtable.”The receptionist let out a short laugh. “Sir, this is a closed session. Only invited principals and managing partners. No observers or interns.”A few businessmen waiting near the elevators chuckled softly at t
CHAPTER 191
Morning light filtered through the Everhart estate’s floor-to-ceiling windows, casting pale golden shadows across the marble floors. Outside, the garden bloomed quietly, untouched by the noise of the world.Javier Everhart sat at the breakfast table with a steaming cup of black tea in hand. He wasn’t reading a newspaper or scrolling through news on his phone. He simply watched the sun rise slowly, the way he always did, without rush.Valeria entered a moment later, wearing a white silk robe, her dark hair loosely tied. She pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek before sitting across from him.“They’re still calling,” she murmured, pouring herself tea. “Ronald’s assistant has left three messages. Two emails from Marcus. And a request for a private meeting from Councilman Marris.”Javier’s expression didn’t shift. “They’ll call until the fear wears off. Then they’ll pretend nothing happened.”Valeria studied him. “And you? Will you respond?”He took a sip of his tea. “Eventually.”They sat
CHAPTER 190
The grand hall of the Aurelia Hotel glistened with polished marble and golden chandeliers, echoing with the hum of conversation and the clinking of wine glasses. It was a charity gala, one of the most exclusive events of the season. Invitations were rare, the guest list handpicked. Everyone who mattered in the city’s business sphere was present.Javier Everhart stood near the far end of the room, near the enormous glass windows overlooking the city lights. His dark blue suit was perfectly tailored, his posture calm and composed. Yet somehow, he still blended into the background. People walked past him without a second glance, assuming him to be one of the serving staff or a guest from a minor sponsor company.A man brushed past him roughly, nearly spilling wine on Javier’s sleeve. The man didn’t even pause.“Move out of the way, will you?” he muttered irritably.Javier only gave a small nod.That man—Ronald Hemsley—was the owner of a mid-tier investment firm that had been aggressively
CHAPTER 189
The scent of espresso lingered in the air as Javier stepped into the quiet little café nestled between rows of bookstores and flower stalls. The place was modest—old wooden tables, mismatched chairs, a hand-chalked menu above the counter—but it was peaceful. That’s why Javier liked it.He wore a plain beige coat over a dark sweater, his black trousers slightly wrinkled from sitting in meetings all morning. There was no glint of luxury, no mark of status. Just a man who looked tired, solitary, and invisible in the crowd.As he queued to order, two young businessmen in sleek suits pushed past him without so much as a glance. One bumped Javier’s shoulder hard, sending a tremor through his arm.“Watch it, old man,” the taller one muttered without looking back.The other laughed. “Bet he’s here for free Wi-Fi.”Javier said nothing. He merely stepped back into line, his hands calm at his sides.The barista at the counter, a young woman named Marcy who had never once greeted him with anythin
CHAPTER 188
The rain had softened to a mist by morning. Javier sat on the stone bench beneath the ivy-covered pergola, a cup of black coffee untouched in his hand. The scent of damp earth lingered in the garden, accompanied by the low hum of bees circling the roses Valeria had planted last spring.She approached quietly, as she always did—never startling him, never intruding. Just appearing beside him like a thought that finally found words.“Didn’t sleep,” she said softly, slipping her hand into his.He shook his head once.Valeria studied his face, her warm brown eyes noting the stillness in his jaw, the fatigue in his shoulders. Most people wouldn’t notice it. But she always did.“Was it Cassian?&rd
CHAPTER 187
The hotel’s grand ballroom emptied like a tide receding from the shore. All that remained was silence—and Javier.He didn’t stay long. There was no need. The echoes of his statement would reverberate through boardrooms, headlines, and private calls before the night was over. And that was enough.Javier made his way through the gold-trimmed hallways of the Langston Towers, his pace steady, eyes fixed forward. He wore the same grey coat and scuffed leather shoes that had earned him sneers from valet attendants and whispered insults from waitstaff earlier that evening. No one had bothered to greet him when he entered. Now, none dared to speak.But of course, there were always exceptions.“Hey! You!”A voice rang out sharply behind him.Javier turned his head mildly, his expression unreadable.A young man in an overpriced blazer—probably no older than twenty-seven—stormed toward him. His name tag, which read “Jules,” was tilted sideways. The assistant event coordinator.“I told you earlie
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