The Divorced Heiress’s Revenge

Asher felt the agonizing words pierce straight through his heart, each syllable cutting deeper than the last.

Pain twisted inside him as a relentless force threatened to tear him apart.

Through the haze, Arnold vaguely noticed a crimson tear welling in the corner of Asher's eye. But before it could fall, he clenched his eyes shut, forcing it back.

His striking features were empty, devoid of any trace of emotion—a mask of quiet devastation.

Yet, an unbearable anguish crashed over him like a tidal wave, dragging him under. He had no time to school his expression. His soul lay in ruins beneath the rigid shell of his body.

Yuri slid into the driver's seat and shut the door. Just then, Arnold lurched forward, retching again. The sound was gut-wrenching, as if he were vomiting up his very soul.

"Matrix, Mr. Larson looks like he has alcohol poisoning. We should take him to the hospital." Yuri's brows knitted together in worry as he noted Arnold's pallid face.

Asher shrugged off his suit jacket, using it to wipe away the mess in the car. But when he saw Arnold groaning in pain, his chest tightened. His heart twisted as though it were being ripped apart.

Without warning, he pulled the man into a firm embrace.

He knew Arnold's drinking tolerance well. He was not one to get drunk easily, let alone to this extent.

How much pain must he have been in to drown himself like this to destroy himself like this?

"Thirsty... So thirsty... So hot..."

Arnold's pale face gradually flushed with color. His eyes glistened with moisture, and his slightly parted lips were tinged with a delicate pink. His feverish and unsteady breath spilled against Asher's chin as his body sagged, melting into the man's embrace.

"Yuri, what's happening? He's burning up!" Asher pressed his palm against Arnold's skin through the thin silk of his shirt. The heat was scorching and unnatural.

"Matrix, something is very wrong!"

Yuri had been a doctor for years. He had seen enough in the underworld to recognize the symptoms immediately. His expression darkened.

"Mr. Larson has been drugged. Someone must have spiked his drink!"

Asher's gaze turned ice-cold. His mind flashed back to the man who had been shamelessly flirting with Arnold earlier. His jaw clenched, his fingers tightening around Arnold's waist.

He pulled out his phone, his voice clipped and lethal as he gave a single command.

Minutes later, the man who had dared target Arnold was dragged out of the bar's back door like a piece of discarded trash. He disappeared into a dark, filthy alley.

There was no need to describe what happened next.

"Matrix, Mr. Larson won't last much longer! We need to take him to a hospital now!" Yuri urged anxiously.

"No need. I got him."

Asher's collar was in complete

disarray, his neck marred with deep, angry scratch marks. Yet none of it mattered. He only looked down at

the man in his arms, his eyes filled

with unwavering tendernesse

QUMS

"Take us to KS World Hotel."

Late at night, the cold moon hung in the sky, casting its pale glow over the world.

Tideview Manor was eerily silent, swallowed by darkness.

Justin's sharp brows furrowed as he

walked alone down the grand corridor. The air felt heavy, the silence almost oppressive. Finally, he stopped in front of Gregory's study.

He knocked. A low voice answered from within.

Pushing the door open, he stepped inside. Gregory sat alone on the sofa, downing one glass of strong liquor after another.

"Dad, your blood pressure is high. You shouldn't be drinking liquor like these."

Justin strode forward, reaching out to move the half-empty bottle of whiskey aside. His long lashes lowered slightly, masking his unreadable expression. Gregory's grip on the glass faltered. He lifted his head, his once-proud and commanding eyes now clouded with exhaustion.

Justin rarely saw his father like this. Suspicion flickered in his mind, but his voice remained steady.

"It's late. Why did you call me here? Is something wrong?"

"Justin..."

Gregory swallowed another mouthful of liquor, his voice hoarse and drained.

"Tomorrow is the board meeting. There's something I need to tell you in advance. I won't change my decision. Your elder brother will remain the president of Salvador Corporation."

His chapped lips parted slightly, as though he wanted to say, I'm sorry. It was an apology for his son, who had endured so much and sacrificed more than he ever should have.

But his foolish pride held him back. In the end, he swallowed the words, letting the guilt fester in silence.

"Dad, I understand. You've always felt guilty toward Grant. Now that he's back, you want to do everything you can to make it up to him.”

Justin stood before him, his deep eyes unwavering.

“But all of this must be done with the company's best interests in mind. For years,

you drilled that lesson into me. I have never forgotten it. Have you?"

Gregory clenched his jaw, unable to meet his son's gaze.

How could he ever forget?