Ex-husband Last Regret

Chapter five

Dominic pov

That night, after finishing my work, I returned to Blackwood House just past midnight.

In the past, whenever I promised to come home, no matter how late it was, there would always be warm food in the kitchen and lights on in the bedroom. The moment I stepped into the living room, a woman would bend down to hand me my slippers.

But now, the living room was empty, and the lights were dim.

Her unusual behavior irritated me for some reason, and my mood soured.

Ah, it seemed she was staging a silent protest.

I was only a little late returning home, and she was throwing a tantrum. Was it really necessary?

I hadn’t even brought up her affair with James scott, and after finishing my work, I rushed back to give her face. What more did she want?

My growing agitation became unbearable, making my temples throb. I strode toward the bedroom and kicked the door open. "Vivian Carter, get out here!"

I gave you face.

The bedroom was empty, and I frowned.

Hearing the commotion, Margaret Blackwood walked over with a laugh, "That little brat has no idea where she's off gallivanting. She hasn't come home all day."

My frown deepened, and the atmosphere around me grew tense.

Margaret continued to stir the pot, "Women from those small families are never worth much. You shouldn't have married her in the first place. You should've just paid her off to avoid being the subject of gossip later!"

I shot her a cold glance, causing her to flinch inside.

I could be ruthless, and sometimes even she couldn't figure out what I was really thinking.

Margaret fell silent and turned to leave.

I surveyed the bedroom and noticed that she had only taken her personal clothing. The jewelry and luxury items I had bought for her were all left behind.

Hmph, she used to act all soft and obedient, but today she seemed to have developed a backbone.

Not only was she angry with me, but she had also learned the trick of running away from home.

Women were truly troublesome; they would go to great lengths to win my affection, and just watching it all made me feel exhausted.

I impatiently sent her a message: "I'm back."

But there was no response from Vivian Carter.

I absolutely hated this feeling. Whether in business or life-and-death situations, I preferred to be the one holding the knife, controlling others' fates, rather than sitting idly by.

This sensation made me inexplicably restless.

After a long pause, I sent her another message: "Once you've had your fun, come back. Annoying me won't do you any good."

Vivian pov

I received his message just as I finished checking into my hotel.

I almost laughed in anger. Sure enough, Dominic Blackwood treated me like a pet waiting for its master, as if he could toss me a bone and I would be grateful, wagging my tail in delight.

While I was furious, I couldn't help but feel a pang of regret. In the past, I had lowered myself to the ground to nurture the love in my heart, thinking that it would warm his heart in return. Little did I know, reality had slapped me hard in the face.

From now on, I would no longer give Dominic Blackwood any chance to mistreat me.

I scoffed and promptly turned off my phone.

Dominic Blackwood had always been short on patience with me. After waiting a long time without a response, he decided to call. When he heard the message that said, "The number you have dialed is not available," a vein in his temple throbbed uncontrollably.

Did he really think I was done with my old tricks and was now playing hard to get?

Dominic Blackwood had always been excellent at controlling his emotions and desires. He never got too attached to anything or anyone, nor did he ever become addicted.

Even when he saw me throwing myself into my passions like a moth to a flame, he remained indifferent—after all, he wasn’t the one being burned.

But tonight, for some inexplicable reason, he found himself craving cigars, lighting one after another.

A box of cigars burned down intermittently, and before I knew it, dawn had arrived.

I didn’t think I had stirred his emotions; he simply despised anything or anyone that slipped out of his control—even a dog wouldn’t be allowed that.

Yet I had the audacity to play hard to get, not coming home all night. It was a blatant challenge to his boundaries.

Just then, my phone rang. It was him.

I pressed my lips together. If I were to apologize sincerely and promise to behave in the future, he might let it slide.

Someone had to fill the role of Mrs. Blackwood, and he wasn’t fond of women who were too clever or too troublesome, so he was willing to give me a chance.

When he answered the call, his voice was low and rough. “You’ve got some nerve not coming home.”

I scoffed. “Dominic Blackwood, do you not understand human language? I’m informing you about the divorce, not negotiating with you!”

Hearing the word "divorce," a vein throbbed on his forehead, and an inexplicable irritation surged in his chest. “Vivian Carter, I’ve been too lenient with you!”

The unspoken words were clear: don’t push your luck.

I was almost laughing in anger. His constant air of aloofness and indifference made me sick.

After three years of coldness and humiliation, any love I once felt had long since faded away. I would never bow down for anyone again; I just wanted to be myself.

“Dominic Blackwood, I admit I was wrong. It was my one-sided wish from the start. But in these three years, I’ve endured nothing but disdain and indifference. Let’s just let each other go and save face for what’s left between us.”

He remained frozen in his position, still holding the phone, not moving for a long time.

I wanted him to let me go.

What right did he think I had to make demands?

In his eyes, he could decide whether I lived or died.

Besides, it was I who had shamelessly offered my kidney and married him in the first place. What gave me the right to walk away now?

The rules of the game were meant to be set by him, the one in control.

He didn’t take my words to heart.

After changing his clothes, he headed to the office.

Yet, there was a strange frustration brewing inside him, casting a heavy atmosphere over the entire conference room.

The executives were all on edge, not daring to provoke this living embodiment of a tyrant, each of them on high alert.

After the morning meeting, Ethan brooks cautiously asked, “Dominic, are we still changing today’s schedule?”

He remembered that today was the day I had told him to go get the marriage certificate.

Dominic Blackwood shot him a cool glance. "There's an assistant position available for a project in Africa. You might want to consider it."

Ethan brooks immediately shut his mouth, startled.

He checked his phone. It was almost nine o'clock, and there was still no sign from me. It seemed I was just putting on a show last night.

It made sense; even kids throw a tantrum when they can't get candy. After two months away from home, it was only natural for me to feel upset.

At the civil affairs bureau, I had deliberately chosen to wear a white dress, my hair styled elegantly to one side, and a pearl flower brooch pinned at my chest. This somber outfit was perfect for mourning a lost love.

Yet, the white dress accentuated the grace of an innocent woman, and with my stunningly beautiful face, I appeared enchanting and alluring, drawing the attention of passersby.

After waiting for half an hour without seeing that cold figure, it seemed he had brushed off my words.

It was understandable; over the years, he had always been indifferent towards me. No matter what I did or said, it never seemed to pique his interest, so naturally, I wouldn’t be on his mind.

Just as I was about to urge Dominic Blackwood, I received a call from James scott. "Vivian, you might need to come to England in person. The director here has made it clear that since the collaboration is being discussed in your name, you’ll need to sign the contract yourself."

I frowned. After two years of hard work, I finally secured a partnership opportunity with a brand from England. At this crucial moment, I had no reason to give up.

"Alright, I'll take a flight over now."

It seemed that I wouldn't be able to separate from Dominic Blackwood today. Divorce could wait; finalizing the brand partnership was my priority.

Before boarding the plane, I sent him a message: "I have to leave for a few days. Let's reschedule."

When he saw the message, he let out a cold snort. Just as he had suspected.

From the very beginning, he believed I never intended to leave him. All this fuss was just to gain his pity, just like three years ago when I had shattered myself, bending over backward and carefully presenting my heart to him.

Tch, he had clearly overestimated me.