Chapter 25
“Yes, we are,” I said quietly, my voice cold and final. “We’ve been done for a long time, Dwight. What you’re doing now? It’s just dragging out the remains of something that died years ago.”
His eyes flickered, something like panic flashing behind the anger, but it was too late. Alaric’s grip tightened, the muscles in his arm flexing as he lifted Dwight off his feet, pushing him harder against the wall. “You’re the one who got kicked out of the pack, Dwight,” Alaric said, his voice deadly calm. “You’re the rogue here. You lost everything–including Sylvia. So why don’t you stop embarrassing yourself and walk away before I make you?”
That seemed to snap something in Dwight. With a roar of frustration, he swung his fist wildly toward Alaric’s face. But Alaric was faster. He dodged the blow effortlessly, using Dwight’s own momentum to throw him to the ground.
The fight wasn’t even close.
Alaric was younger, stronger, and faster. Dwight tried to fight back, but it was no use. Within seconds, Alaric had him pinned to the floor, his knee pressing into Dwight’s back, immobilizing him.
“Enough,” I said, stepping forward. “Alaric, let him go. He’s not worth it.”
Alaric glanced up at me, his eyes softening for a moment before he nodded, releasing Dwight with a final, disgusted shove.
Dwight lay on the floor, panting, his face flushed with humiliation and rage. But I didn’t care. Not anymore. Without another word, I turned and walked away, leaving him–and everything he represented–behind me for good.
“Dwight, Dwight, are you okay?” Belinda’s voice cracked as she burst through the door, her eyes wide with panic. Her heels clicked frantically across the hardwood
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The Ex Husband’s Regret: I Shot to fame Overnight After Our Divorce
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Chapter 25
floor, and she dropped to her knees beside Dwight, who was lying slumped against the wall, blood staining the front of his shirt.
Without thinking, she wrapped her arms around him, her entire body trembling
with fear.
“Dwight!” She sobbed, her tears falling uncontrollably as she pulled his limp form into her lap. “No, no, no, this can’t be happening! Oh my God, please, someone help! Dwight, say something!”
Dwight grimaced, barely able to keep his eyes open. Every breath he took felt like it was being ripped from his chest, the pain from his bruised ribs overwhelming.
Despite the agony though, he managed to raise his hand, gently pushing Belinda’s arms away from his body as he tried to shield her from the worst of his injuries. “I’m fine,” he gasped, his voice strained. “Get up. Don’t… don’t worry.”
Belinda’s tears flowed harder, her beautiful face a picture of sorrow as she looked down at him. She seemed so fragile in that moment. Her lip trembled, her hands shaking as she tried to wipe away the blood staining her fingertips. “How can you say that?” She whispered, choking on her sobs. “How can you tell me not to worry when you’re like this? Who could do this to you? Why would any…?”
I stood across the room, leaning against the doorway, watching the scene with detached indifference. The way she clung to him, the dramatic desperation in her voice–it was all so theatrical. From the outside, it was as if they were the tragic lovers in some melodramatic romance novel, bound together by fate, with the whole world against them.
They certainly looked the part–Belinda, with her perfectly styled hair now falling in disarray, her designer dress stained with Dwight’s blood, holding him like she was the only thing keeping him from death.
But I knew better.
I shifted my weight, adjusting my grip on my bag. A small frown tugged at the
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The Ex Husband’s Parrot I Shot
Chapter 25
corners of my lips as I ran my thumb over the scuff mark on the leather, where it had hit the floor during the struggle.
A designer logo, now damaged… It annoyed me more than the spectacle in front of
- me.
How typical that even in a moment like this, I had to deal with the mess their actions had caused.
Belinda suddenly noticed me standing there, and then her tear–filled eyes flashed with anger, and she carefully helped Dwight sit up, supporting him with one arm. “Sylvia!” She spat, her voice shaking with accusation. “How could you do this? How could you be so heartless? Just because you’re mad about what happened between me and Dwight, you think that gives you the right to hurt him like this?” She gripped Dwight’s hand tightly, as if she could somehow transfer her strength to him, but there was something hollow in her words–something that betrayed her guilt.
I didn’t respond immediately and just leveled a cold stare at her. The silence hung in the air for a long moment, thick with tension. Her eyes flickered, and her bravado crumbled slightly. Inevitably, she looked away, her hands trembling again.
Alaric, who had been standing silently beside me the whole time, finally stepped forward. He moved with the quiet confidence of a predator, his presence commanding the space as he came to stand protectively in front of me. His eyes were dark, his expression unyielding. “I’m the one who hit him,” he said bluntly, his voice deep and authoritative. “If you’ve got a problem, take it up with me.”
