His Belated Love for the Abandoned Ex-Wife Chapter 284: Three Years Later

He braced himself against the sofa to steady his footing. Once upright, he let out a few bitter, helpless laughs that bordered on choking back tears. Then, without another word, he started up the stairs.

How pitiful. How infuriating.

So all those years of devotion—more than a decade—had been nothing but a solo performance.

That iceberg had never really thawed for him.

Days blurred into nights. One thousand, one hundred and twenty-six days later—three years and one month—early autumn arrived, bringing with it the first crisp chill of the season.

In a penthouse office towering above the city center, a man stood motionless before a wall of floor-to-ceiling windows. His left hand rested in the pocket of his tailored black trousers, while his right held a mug of black coffee. His gaze was fixed on the urban sprawl below—a steel-and-glass jungle of skyscrapers clawing at the sky.

He took a slow, deliberate sip.

Suddenly, the office door swung open.

"Mr. Everhart, your father insisted on coming in." Owen's voice wavered slightly.

Frederick's tone was heated and imposing. "Since when do I need an appointment to see my own son?"

Owen glanced nervously toward Julian's rigid, indifferent back, awaiting instruction.

"Leave us. Close the door," Julian replied, his voice low and icy.

"Yes." Owen retreated quickly, pulling the door shut behind him.

Frederick strode in and sank into one of the leather couches, his expression grim.

Julian turned. His eyes were sharp, detached, utterly devoid of warmth. He walked over and took a seat across from his father, setting his coffee cup down gently on the glass table. "What is it?"

Frederick's temper flared. "Gideon and Zach have been with the company for decades. They earned their seats on the board. And you just... remove them?"

"And if I did?" Julian's tone was cold, cutting.

"Reinstate them. Now."

A humorless, contemptuous smile touched Julian's lips. "Since when do you give me orders?"

Frederick's face reddened, veins prominent at his temples. His fists clenched, trembling faintly. For a long moment, he was speechless.

Three years earlier, under Caleb's leadership, Everhart Group had spiraled downward. A series of fraudulent deals had nearly bankrupted the company.

In desperation, Frederick had begged Julian to return and take the reins—ultimately transferring 51% of the shares into Julian's name.

Caleb, who had held 35%, had always been reckless with money. After several failed ventures, he'd sold nearly all of his stake to Julian as well.

Julian now controlled over 70% of the shares. He had merged Everhart Group with Veritas Group.

With cold precision and forward-looking strategy, he'd propelled Veritas into the global top ten—and himself into the top five on the Forbes list.

Behind the trillion-dollar market cap was a leadership style that was ruthless, decisive, and razor-sharp, one that had reshaped the landscape of American business.

Needless to say, Julian was no longer someone who took directions from his father.

Frederick drew a heavy breath, swallowing his anger. After a pause, he shifted tactics. "When are you and Lily finally getting married?"

Julian's face remained impassive. He glanced at his wristwatch. "I have an hour and eight minutes free now. Tell her to meet me at the city hall."

Frederick's expression darkened. He said nothing.

Julian's lips curved into a cold, almost cruel smile. "What's the matter? Can't get her to come?"

"You've changed, Julian." Frederick's jaw tightened, his voice thick with emotion. "You've changed so much that everyone is afraid of you—even Lily, who loves you dearly."

Julian rose and moved toward his desk. A derisive snort escaped him. "Loves me? She's been by my side day and night for three years. Not once has she mentioned marriage."

"You... The way you treat people... who would dare marry you?" Frederick stood as well. "When are you moving out of Rosehill Estate?"

Julian picked up his phone from the desk, slipped it into his pocket, and shrugged on his suit jacket. A faint, mocking smile lingered on his face. "Wasn't it you who wanted me to spend more time with Lily? What's wrong? Three years in, and you already can't stand having me around?"

"It's not me. It's your stepmother, your brother, your grandmother," Frederick replied, sounding weary.

"Easy to invite the devil in, hard to make him leave." Julian's smile was frosty. He walked to the door, pulled it open, and said to Owen outside, "Send the cleaning crew in to sanitize the office."

Without a backward glance, he walked away.

Frederick was left standing alone in the lavish space—not even offered a glass of water. His face flushed with anger, fists clenched, breathing deeply.

Every time Frederick visited the office, Julian had it disinfected afterward.

Even Julian's executive assistant never offered so much as a cup of coffee.

*****

Night had fallen at Rosehill Estate.

In the villa's great room, the sixteenth group of newly hired staff were all handing in their resignations.

Vivian scanned the letters in panic. "Please—don't all leave. I'll... I'll increase your pay."

"Ma'am, it's not just the pay," one of them spoke up cautiously. "Mr. Everhart is... difficult to work for. We just can't take it anymore."

Lily, seated nearby, wore a sympathetic look and chimed in softly, "What if everyone stayed just until we find replacements? We'll double your wages—how does that sound?"

Double the pay.

The staff exchanged hesitant glances. The offer was tempting. In the end, they nodded reluctantly in agreement.

Just then, the low growl of a car engine sounded from the driveway. An immediate tension settled over the villa.

The staff scattered in quiet haste, returning to their posts.

One of the housemaids rushed to open the front door, bowing slightly as she greeted, "Good evening, Mr. Everhart."

Then she bent down, retrieved a pair of leather house slippers, and placed them neatly before him.