The Regretful CEO's Comeback

Chapter 3

The house was brightly lit. As soon as Elodie pushed open the door, she saw the cold, distinguished figure of a man in a suit seated on the living room sofa, his back to her.

How long had it been since Damian last came home?

Had it been 5 months, 8 months, or a year?

She couldn't remember.

The walk home had exhausted her physically and emotionally. Without a word, she took her slippers from the shoe cabinet, changed into them, and headed straight for the stairs and the upstairs master bedroom.

"Can't you see your husband is waiting for you?" His low, indifferent voice came from the living room. "Didn't you notice someone was here?"

She couldn't be bothered to answer and kept climbing. His displeasure sharpened. "Stop."

Continuing to ignore him would probably offend his pride and cause even more trouble. Elodie stopped, but she didn't turn around.

"Do you always come home this late?" he continued coolly, with an edge of resentment he didn't even recognize himself.

It was such an irrelevant, pointless question that she didn't have the energy to answer.

He frowned. "Why aren't you speaking?"

"Is it late? For someone like you, Mr. Waverly, isn't the nightlife just getting started?" Growing more impatient than he was, she couldn't keep the sarcasm out of her voice. "Besides, what does it matter to you when I get home? Instead of worrying about that, shouldn't you be keeping Ms. Valez company after her terrible fright today?"

"Does it physically hurt you to go without making a snide remark?"

"That depends on your attitude, Mr. Waverly." She smiled. "I give people the treatment they deserve."

She'd always been the one shamelessly clinging to him. When had he ever had to endure such sharp, spiteful words from her? When had she become so determined to find fault with everything?

His expression darkened, hostility radiating from him.

But then, he hadn't expected them to get along. The thought gradually cooled his anger.

"Come here." His tone was forceful and left no room for argument.

Elodie didn't want to move, much less spend time with him. "If you have something to say, sir, please say it. I can hear you."

Even her exaggerated politeness grated on him.

His voice dropped. "I won't say it again."

If her back hadn't been turned, he would have seen the irritation and impatience in her eyes and lost his temper. He certainly wouldn't have been patient enough to give her another chance.

She took a deep breath, forcing down her emotions.

Sitting on the opposite sofa, she avoided looking at him and focused instead on the coffee cup steaming on the table. Considering he never came home, she was surprised he'd even managed to find the coffee.

Disheveled from her journey, her hair untidy, she looked distinctly worse for wear. Damian narrowed his eyes. "Did you walk home?"

He casually lifted the steaming glass coffee cup and took an elegant sip, leaning comfortably against the sofa. "You seem to be short of money lately."

He phrased it as a question, but he clearly knew the answer.

"Did you leave a beautiful woman alone tonight and come all this way just to make that pointless observation?" Elodie kept her gaze lowered, her expression blank. "If so, you've seen me. You can be satisfied now."

He gave a cold laugh. "You were so defiant at the hospital, insisting you'd compensate Seraphina. It's only been a few hours, and now you can't even afford a cab?"

Her brows drew together, genuine confusion filling her eyes. "Does mocking me and watching me struggle make you feel accomplished?"

He threw her own words back at her. "That depends on your attitude."

He was testing her.

Of course she understood. She'd once been terrified of that half smile, the way he looked at her like a cat watching a mouse. Now she wasn't afraid.

If he wanted to use money to control her, she'd show him that money wasn't all she intended to gain control of.

"You left a beautiful woman alone tonight and came here to ask a pointless question just to laugh at me?" Her smile slowly disappeared. She straightened and met his gaze. "Then let me tell you. Yes, I need money. But Damian, being short of money doesn't mean I'm short of brains. It certainly doesn't mean I have no self-respect.

"All that talk about self-respect before was because you thought I was as easy to coax and control as I was 3 years ago."

"And now?" His interest stirred. Something she couldn't decipher flashed in his eyes.

She faced him squarely. "Now, I'm ready to settle accounts with you."

His hand stopped halfway to his mouth, the coffee cup suspended in the air.

Staring at her, he suddenly realized that the woman before him no longer resembled the meek little wife he remembered.

That inexplicable irritation rose inside him again.

He set down his cup and slowly leaned back, his mouth hovering on the edge of a smile. "All right. Tell me how you intend to do that."

Elodie lowered her eyes to the last wisp of steam rising from the drink.

"Don't regret it when I do, Mr. Waverly."