When the Wealthy Widower Strikes Back

Ben’s Secret

“I truly still care for you.” Thalia repeated her words, but this time her voice carried a steadiness that surprised Ben. No tremor, no hesitation—only a quiet strength. She stood taller, her tone firmer, her presence more composed than before. “No matter what has happened between us, we shared countless memories. For the sake of those memories, and because I still care for you more than I want to admit, I need to tell you this—you must try harder to fix your life.”

Ben felt a flicker of warmth at her words. For a brief moment, he was touched that she still cared. But confusion quickly furrowed his brow. “Fix my life?”

“Move to a better place. A proper home. I don’t want Alisya, wherever she is now, to look down and see her parents living in chaos.”

Ben cleared his throat awkwardly, his voice caught between defensiveness and vulnerability. “Oh, about that… actually, I already—”

“I’m not talking about that shabby house near the fish-reeking coast,” Thalia interrupted sharply. “I mean a safer place, somewhere decent.”

“Yes, I know. Thalia, the day Alisya had her accident—”

“Don’t bring that up again!” she snapped, her voice rising with urgency. “Listen to me. I know you better than anyone. Stop clinging to that coastal neighborhood just because it’s where you built your business. Your work will survive even if you move to a better city.”

Ben inhaled deeply, frustration tightening his chest. He wanted to tell her the truth—the secret he had been holding back—but she kept cutting him off. She seemed restless, more hurried than before, as if she wanted to end the conversation before it could wander into dangerous territory.

And then the reason for her urgency appeared.

A man approached—handsome, immaculately dressed, radiating confidence. His stride carried an aura of superiority, as though nothing in the world could rival him. Ben’s stomach churned with nausea at the sight.

“Darling, are you finished talking?” Garry asked smoothly, running a hand through his slicked-back hair.

“Yes, I am. Why did you get here so quickly?” Thalia asked, surprised.

“I happened to be nearby,” Garry replied, taking her hand possessively. He turned to Ben with a polite nod that carried no warmth. “May I take her home now? Thalia still isn’t well. She needs rest.”

Ben clenched his teeth, jealousy and resentment gnawing at him. He hated the way Garry made him feel small, diminished, like a shadow of a man.

Still, though he had more to say to Thalia, Ben forced himself to nod. “Go home. Thalia looks exhausted.”

“Of course. After losing her beloved daughter, she still has to worry about her pitiful ex-husband.” Garry’s words were whispered, almost inaudible—but Ben heard them clearly.

“Garry,” Thalia scolded, displeased. She turned to Ben with a look of regret before allowing herself to be led away. Together, they walked toward a gleaming white MPV.

Ben stood frozen until they disappeared from sight. Then rage erupted. He slammed his fist against a nearby tree, bark splintering beneath his blows. “How could you let yourself be humiliated like that, Ben!” he shouted at himself. “You should have said something! You should have proved you’re not that worthless!”

Breathing hard, he finally stopped. His hand slipped into his pocket, pulling out a shining key and a photograph of a two-story house painted in warm cream tones.

“I already bought a new home in a better neighborhood,” he muttered bitterly. “I was supposed to move there with Alisya. But she died before I could tell anyone.”

He shoved the items back into his pocket, groaning in frustration. “Why is it so easy to say now? Why couldn’t I tell Thalia earlier?”

Grief twisted into anger. He grabbed his hair, pulling hard until pain shot through his scalp, trying to distract himself from the storm inside. But it didn’t work.

The wind picked up, turning harsh. Raindrops began to fall, cold against his skin. He tilted his head back, watching as the sky darkened, thick gray clouds swallowing the blue. A drop landed on his eyelid, forcing him to close his eyes.

Through the rumble of thunder, he heard only Thalia’s sobs echoing in his mind.

He knew how pathetic he looked—pathetic and foolish. Those words had followed him all his life. But he swore he would shed them soon.

With one hand, he pulled out his phone and dialed. His other hand clenched into a fist. “Bring the car.”

Minutes later, Ben sat in the back seat of a luxurious car, its interior dominated by rich brown leather. A can of energy drink rested in the holder beside him. He reclined against the plush seat, softer than any bed he had ever owned. He fought against sleep, determined to stay awake and watch the unfamiliar scenery outside.

“Annoying,” he muttered. “The view looks so different depending on where you see it from.”

He had never considered the streets of Broken City beautiful. But through the crystal-clear glass of his new car, even rain-soaked roads shimmered like something from another world.

Through the window, he spotted one of his workers riding a motorcycle, a large basket strapped to the back. The familiar cry of a fish vendor pierced the air, muffled by the car’s insulated walls.

“He works hard, even in the rain. I should raise his pay,” Ben murmured.

The driver chuckled. “And what about me? I’ve done plenty for you, Ben. I’m even your personal chauffeur now.”

Ben glanced at him. The man’s scar beneath his eye was unmistakable—Sander. He tugged at the collar of his ill-fitting black jacket, grinning slyly.

“We’ll discuss your salary if you manage to deliver this car safely,” Ben replied dryly. “This car cost me my life’s worth.”

Sander whistled. “So, which tycoon did you rob? Or did you catch a mermaid among your fish and sell her off? How else could you afford a car like this overnight?”

“I bought it days ago.”

“Doesn’t matter! I still need to know where the money came from. I don’t want to get dragged into police trouble again for something that barely benefits me.”

“Relax.” Ben leaned forward, gripping the back of Sander’s seat. “Call it a stroke of luck. You know I’ve never done anything illegal.”

Sander eyed him through the rearview mirror, suspicion lingering. But eventually he shrugged. “Fine. I’ll trust you. But let me say one thing.”

“What?”

“Change your clothes. That shabby look doesn’t match this car. People will think I’m the boss and you’re the driver.”

Ben chuckled. “I don’t look that bad.”

“Hmm.” Sander snorted. “Maybe you’re right. People will focus on your handsome face. Everyone except your ex-wife. Do you think she’ll really refuse to come back to you after seeing all this luxury? From what I know, their car isn’t even half as expensive as this one.”

“Enough. When will we arrive?” Ben sighed, leaning back again. He didn’t want to continue a conversation that circled back to Thalia. “This feels like the longest trip I’ve ever taken.”

“About that…” Sander’s voice wavered. He pointed nervously at the navigation screen beside the wheel. Lines crisscrossed the display, branching endlessly, overlapping like a maze. Just looking at it made him uneasy.

“I’ve been meaning to ask… did I take the right road?”