Revenge on My Ex Husband

Chapter 17

Drake’s POV

Morning settled heavily over the city, gray clouds stretching endlessly beyond the glass walls of Grayson Holdings while the streets below drowned beneath the rush of traffic and movement.

From the top floor of the building, everything looked distant, small and manageable.

That illusion had always amused me because nothing in my life had ever truly been manageable.

Not this company, not my family. And certainly not the woman who had somehow followed me into my thoughts long after I left the mansion this morning.

I stood near the windows of my office with one hand resting inside my pocket while the other loosened slightly around the untouched cup of coffee beside me. The bitterness from it had already gone cold. Much like my mood.

Behind me, voices moved quietly through the executive floor while assistants hurried between offices carrying files and schedules that were worth millions of dollars.

Normally, mornings like this sharpened my focus.

Today, I had reread the same financial report three times without processing a single line.

Because every few minutes, my thoughts drifted back to Lora again. To the exhaustion hidden beneath her smile, to the sound of her laughter inside the bathroom after I forced her to take the medication, to the way she looked at me whenever she forgot herself for a second too long.

And then Vivian’s voice followed immediately afterward like poison spreading through clean water.

You’re starting to look at her the same way your father once looked at your mother.

The memory alone tightened my jaw.

A knock sounded against the office door before one of the junior executives stepped inside nervously with a tablet pressed against his chest.

“Sir, the Henderson meeting has been moved to eleven.”

I barely looked away from the windows. “Why?”

“They requested additional time to review the contract.”

“They had a week.”

“Yes, sir.”

Silence stretched briefly before I finally turned toward him fully. The poor man straightened instantly beneath my gaze.

“Reschedule it for tomorrow,” I said evenly. “And if they delay again, withdraw the offer completely.”

His eyes widened slightly. “Sir, the Henderson group has been negotiating this merger for almost six months.”

“Then they should know wasting my time is expensive.”

“Yes, sir.”

He disappeared almost immediately afterward.

The door closed quietly behind him and silence returned once more.

I exhaled slowly before walking back toward the desk.

Something about today felt off. It didn’t feel entirely wrong, it was just unsettled like the air before a storm fully arrives.

Another knock interrupted my thoughts.

This time, Bruno stepped inside.

Unlike everyone else in the company, Bruno never looked intimidated walking into my office. Calm composure followed him everywhere like a second shadow.

He carried a dark folder beneath one arm before placing it neatly on the desk.

“The updated security reports from the mansion,” he said.

I sat down slowly, flipping the folder open.

“The footage?”

Bruno nodded once. “The interruption near the east staircase was intentional.”

Of course it was.

Nothing inside that house happened accidentally anymore. Especially not around Vivian.

My eyes moved briefly across the reports before closing the file again.

“Continue monitoring Chloe,” I said calmly. “But do not let Vivian notice.”

“Yes, sir.”

Silence settled briefly between us.

Then Bruno spoke again.

“Mrs. Grayson left early this morning.”

My gaze lifted immediately.

“She went to the hospital to see her mother before returning to the mansion.”

Something inside my chest loosened quietly at the explanation before irritation followed almost immediately afterward.

The realization annoyed me more than it should have.

Bruno noticed anyway.

His expression remained neutral, but I knew him well enough to recognize observation when I saw it.

“You could have asked her yourself,” he said carefully.

“She looked exhausted.”

The answer came too quickly.

Bruno’s brows lowered slightly though he wisely chose not to comment on that.

Instead, he adjusted the folder against the desk before speaking again.

“May I ask you something personal, sir?”

“That usually means I will not enjoy the question.”

A faint trace of amusement crossed his face before disappearing.

“Did you ever tell Mrs. Grayson why you specifically chose her for the contract marriage?”

The atmosphere inside the office changed instantly.

For several seconds, I said nothing at all.

Outside the windows, rain had started falling lightly over the city, blurring the skyline behind thin streaks of water.

No.

I never told Lora the full reason. And I was not sure I intended to.

“She does not need to know,” I replied finally.

Bruno studied me quietly.

“With all due respect, sir, secrets tend to become dangerous eventually.”

A humorless smile almost touched my mouth.

“In this family, Bruno, secrets are the reason people survive.”

Silence followed immediately afterward.

I leaned back slightly in the chair, loosening the cuffs of my sleeves again while my thoughts drifted somewhere I did not want them drifting.

At first, choosing Lora had been simple.

I needed someone outside the influence of the Grayson family. Someone untouched by the people constantly circling my father’s wealth like vultures waiting for weakness.

Lora had no dangerous connections, no social ambitions and no understanding of how vicious this world could become.

She was believable.

And most importantly, she was desperate enough to accept the arrangement without questioning it too deeply.

A temporary wife and nothing more.

That had been the plan. But somewhere between hospital visits, quiet midnight conversations, and the way she kept trying to carry pain without asking anyone for help…things changed.

Now I noticed things I should not have noticed.

I had begun to notice the exhaustion behind her composure, the softness in her voice whenever she spoke about her mother and even the way she thanked servants quietly when nobody else in the mansion even acknowledged them.

And worst of all, I noticed when she looked at me like she was beginning to trust me.

Bruno’s voice interrupted my thoughts again.

“You have become attached to her.”

The statement landed calmly between us.

Still, a wave of irritation flickered instantly through me.

“You are overstepping.”

“Am I wrong?”

My gaze hardened slightly. Bruno held it anyway.

“She trusts you,” he continued carefully. “More than she realizes.”

The words unsettled me because I knew they were true. And trust inside my world was dangerous for everyone involved.

“This marriage ends in less than a year,” I said evenly. “Attachment would complicate things unnecessarily.”

Bruno remained silent after that and somehow, that felt worse than disagreement.

A sharp knock interrupted the tension before either of us spoke again.

One of the reception staff stepped carefully into the office, nervousness practically radiating from her posture.

“Mr. Grayson,” she said carefully. “There is someone downstairs requesting a private meeting.”

“I am not taking meetings.”

Her hesitation immediately caught my attention.

“He said you would want to hear what he has to say.”

Bruno’s expression shifted slightly beside me.

I leaned back slowly in the chair. “Who sent him?”

The woman swallowed once before answering.

“He said to inform you that he represents Wolfe International.”

Silence filled the office instantly.

Then for the first time that morning, Bruno’s composure cracked almost invisibly.

My eyes narrowed slightly.

“Who exactly is here?” I asked calmly.

The receptionist hesitated only briefly before answering.

“Adrian Wolfe.”

The name settled heavily into the room.

Outside the windows, thunder rolled faintly across the city while unease slid quietly beneath my ribs.

Because men like Adrian Wolfe never arrived without a reason.

And they certainly never arrived empty handed.