Divorced But Never Letting Go Chapter 112

RENE

 Over a week had passed since I confronted Olivia about her decision to divorce Cyril, yet no progress had been made.

 Cyril, for his part, had shown no real effort in finalizing it either. More often than not, he spent his time lamenting over Olivia rather than focusing on our future together.

 My mother, of course, was no exception.

 She continued to pressure me, relentless in her insistence that I compel Cyril into marriage.

 “Are you still here?”

 She barged into the living room, disrupting my television program without a second thought.

 I ignored her.

 I already knew what she was about to say.

 Not content with merely interrupting my show, she went a step further—snatching my phone right from my grasp.

 I attempted to take it back, but she held firm.

 I had no choice but to yield, fearing she might damage it in the process.

 “Mom, really?

 You had to seize my phone just to get my attention? Come on, you can do better,” I snapped.

 “If this is what it takes, then so be it. Tell me, why is it taking so long for Cyril to marry you?” she demanded, her voice sharp with exasperation.

 She spoke to me as though I were still the naïve child she had raised, incapable of handling my own affairs.

 “Do you have any idea how difficult it is to convince him? You expect me to throw myself at his feet, utterly desperate? How do you think he would ever take me seriously if I did that?” I argued.

 “Oh, really?

 And yet, seducing him into your bed wasn’t difficult, was it?” she sneered, amusement lacing her words.

 I tried to make her understand that patience was necessary, that I needed time to handle things properly. But she wasn’t interested in my explanations.

 She had already exhausted what little patience she possessed. Results were all that mattered to her—effort be damned.

 “I don’t care what it takes. Just make him marry you. Even if it means eliminating Olivia. We are running out of time, for God’s sake,” she barked before flinging my phone onto the sofa and storming out of the room.

 I exhaled sharply, rushing to retrieve my phone, inspecting it for any damage.

 With my mother gone, I could finally return to my program, but the enthusiasm had left me.

 She had successfully ruined my day before it had even begun.

 “Leave the house.

 She might return,” I muttered to myself.

 Knowing my mother, there was every possibility that she would come back for another round of arguments.

 I had seen it happen before—far too many times—and it never ended in my favor.

 Quietly, I slipped out of the house before she could notice.

 I got into my car and drove straight to Penhurst Company.

 Enough was enough. If Cyril refused to push for the divorce, I would handle it myself.

 I was done waiting.

 His recent behavior had made one thing abundantly clear—he was still deeply in love with Olivia. Perhaps he had even lost interest in me entirely.

 But when I arrived at the company, I was met with an unexpected surprise.

 Olivia wasn’t there.

 Neither was Kate, her assistant.

 It was baffling.

 Olivia was fiercely dedicated to her work—she would sooner sever a limb than abandon her responsibilities.

 Yet, she had been absent for over a week.

 Something was undoubtedly amiss.

 “Should I tell Cyril?

 Does he even know Olivia has been missing?” I wondered.

 He was the only one who might have answers regarding her whereabouts.

 Then again, considering their ongoing feud, it was entirely possible he had no idea.

 I slipped my phone back into my bag and turned to leave.

 Just as I reached the door, I collided with someone.

 I had been so lost in thought that I hadn’t been paying attention to my surroundings.

 My bag and other belongings scattered across the floor.

 I wanted to lash out, but I refrained.

 Had I been more aware, the entire mishap could have been avoided.

 “I’m so sorry.

 I was distracted by a phone call.

 Let me help you pick these up,” the man apologized swiftly.

 With the grace of a gentleman, he crouched down, carefully collecting my scattered items.

 Once satisfied that nothing was missing, he handed my bag back to me. “Everything is accounted for. Again, I sincerely apologize. It wasn’t intentional.”

 He must have apologized a dozen times, yet I barely registered his words.

 I was too focused on his face.

 There was something familiar about him.

 I searched my mind, but the memory remained elusive.

 It wasn’t until he waved a hand in front of me that I snapped out of my daze.

 “Hey! I just apologized. Look, I get that you’re upset, but you could at least say something.”

 “Adrian, right?”

 I murmured.

 “What?”

 He blinked, taken aback.

 “Adrian. That’s your name, isn’t it?” I repeated, my voice more certain now.

 “Yes… Have we met before?”

 He tilted his head, eyes narrowing in curiosity.

 “Don’t you remember me? I’m Cyril’s friend. You and Olivia came to my apartment, pleading for my help in restoring Cyril’s memory. Does that ring a bell now?” I prompted, withholding the part about being Cyril’s mistress.

 “Oh, now I remember.

 You must be Rene, right? It’s nice to see you again.”

 As we shook hands, a slow smile curved my lips.

 I licked them deliberately, my gaze lingering on him in an unmistakably seductive manner.

 I traced my fingers along the back of his hand, dragging out the handshake longer than necessary.

 He stiffened slightly, then abruptly pulled away, forcing an awkward smile.

 I had already begun making him uncomfortable, even if he was too polite to say so.

 “Uh, sorry—I need to be on my way.

 It was nice catching up,” he excused himself, practically fleeing the scene.

 I chuckled, snapping my fingers.

 “I’ll have you soon enough.”

 If Cyril dared to change his mind about me, then Adrian would be my next conquest.