Chapter 187
“Trying to hit on Myra?” Sean winced from the pain radiating through his abdomen, but it was the least of his concerns at that moment. His eyes blazed with fury, the fire in them almost animalistic. He glared at Tony and sneered, “Just who’s trying to hit on Myra here? If it weren’t for you, Director Hart, the person walking her through the mall right now would’ve been me!”
Tony raised a brow, a faint smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. He flicked the ash off his cigarette nonchalantly and responded, “You? Director Chase, tell me this: How many times in the past two years have you actually accompanied her to the mall? Or should I say…” He took a slow drag from his cigarette, his eyes darkening as he continued, “How many times have you been out with other women instead?”
Sean’s face twisted in anger. “This is between us as husband and wife! It’s none of your business.”
“Ex-husband and ex-wife.” Tony’s voice was cold as ice, his gaze hardening. “One that exists only in name.”
Sean’s breath caught. For a moment, it felt like his blood was rushing in his ears. His anger flared, and he remembered the soft, sultry sound of Myra’s voice by the side of that mountain road, the same voice she had used when she spent the night at the Hart Residence with Tony. How could I have been so blind? His hands clenched into fists, nails digging into his palms. He had never touched her in the two years of their marriage. And now, seeing her with Tony, it was clear: their relationship had always been more than just professional.
His voice trembled with fury. “Tony Hart, you despicable bastard! Were you the one who purchased Chase Group’s Hilliville?”
A moment of realization flickered in Sean’s eyes as he pieced everything together. The way Tony had rescued Myra at the construction site, the way he had freed her from prison, all of it suddenly seemed like part of a meticulous plan. The acquisition of Hilliville, coinciding with Myra’s demands during the divorce… Tony had set his sights on her from the beginning.
“Are you trying to take advantage of Myra?!” Sean demanded, his mind reeling with the memory of the photo Lyla had once shown him—a photo that depicted Myra with another man in an ambiguous position. He had never been able to see the man’s face clearly, but now it clicked. The man in that photo was standing right in front of him.
A dangerous glint entered Sean’s eyes as he continued, “Are you using Myra to take control of Hilliville? Does she hold the part of Hilliville that’s in your hands now?”
“Use?” Tony’s smile was chilling, his voice smooth. “I’ve never cared much for Hilliville. If she wanted it, I’d give her the whole damn thing.”
Sean’s pupils dilated with disbelief.
Tony straightened his posture, his expression indifferent. “Aside from sending her to prison because of Hilliville, what else have you done for her? Tell me, Director Chase, what’s the last thing you did for Myra? You think you can just waltz back into her life?” His voice became colder, more cutting. “As for Myra… she’s not a woman you can even dream about now.”
Sean’s heart sank, the weight of Tony’s words crushing him. He stood frozen, staring at Tony’s retreating figure as his body seemed to lose all strength. His thoughts spiraled—I tricked Myra, I married Lyla, and now… Myra and I are too far apart. There’s no coming back from this.
The ringing phone in his pocket was a harsh reminder of his failing life. Weary, he pulled it out and saw that it was his mother calling. His finger hovered over the answer button, but he hesitated. With a resigned sigh, he answered.
“Sean, I can’t live like this anymore! Come home, now! If you don’t want to be with me, just say it. I’ll leave right now. Your wife is humiliating me! You need to fix this, Sean!”
He clenched the phone, his frustration bubbling over. His head pounded, exhaustion setting in.
Meanwhile, Myra, oblivious to the turmoil around her, pushed a small shopping cart through the food section of the supermarket. She was picking up a few ingredients for dinner, even grabbing some junk food for Estelle. She had just arrived at the seafood corner when her phone buzzed.
Tony’s voice echoed in her ear, “Where are you?”
“Seafood corner. Look for the signs above your head. You should be able to find it,” she replied, certain that Tony wouldn’t struggle to locate her.
“Wait for me there,” he instructed before hanging up.
Myra wandered a bit, inspecting some live fish. I think Tony likes fish, and I know Old Master Hart does too…
Just as she was about to call Tony again, she noticed a familiar figure out of the corner of her eye. The person was dressed in white, their figure unmistakable. A slight bump on the person’s stomach and the flat shoes caught Myra’s attention. The sight left her momentarily frozen, but as quickly as she was startled, she shook it off. It’s none of my concern anymore.
“Miss, your fish has been cleaned,” the staff member said, snapping Myra out of her thoughts.
She thanked the staff and placed the fish in her cart. But before she could make another move, a hand suddenly covered her eyes, pulling her backward against a firm chest.
Startled, she froze as the scent of the man behind her filled her senses. Then, a kiss—soft but firm—pressed against her neck. She could hardly breathe, her body tingling with both surprise and irritation. As her hands instinctively reached up to grab the hand covering her eyes, she turned around to face Tony, her cheeks flushed in embarrassment.
“What are you doing? We’re in a supermarket!” she scolded.
Tony smirked, studying the mark he had left on her neck before his gaze flicked to the shopping cart. “Done shopping?” he asked, his voice low and amused.
“Nope,” she replied, but before she could grab the cart, Tony did it for her, effortlessly pushing it with one hand while his other arm wrapped around her waist.
“Tony, you’re impossible!” she muttered under her breath, trying to wiggle free, but he didn’t budge.
He added items to the cart, commenting on each one. “I like this.”
Soon, the cart was brimming with goods. Myra tried to suggest they get another cart, but Tony ignored her, tossing the colorful packs of junk food she’d picked out for Estelle back onto the shelf.
He shrugged, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “Why go through all that trouble for her? She can bring her own next time.”
Amused and slightly exasperated, Myra glanced sideways at him. “Tony, are you jealous of Estelle?”
He narrowed his eyes, loosening his grip on her waist, but still keeping his arm around her. “Put some of those things back,” he murmured, his voice feigning injury. “We’ll get what she likes instead.”