Between Ruin And Resolve My Ex-Husband's Regret novel Chapter 469

Chapter 469 To Myrtlewood Estate

Samuel hovered on the edge of his words, visibly torn. Sadie’s eyes narrowed, her voice low and unwavering “Say it. The

truth, Samuel.”

Only then did he muster the nerve.

“The men from last night… they talked. It was Sutton behind it. He planned to kidnap Hailey. But they took the wrong

person.”

Sadie’s expression hardened–like a surface kissed by sudden frost.

Sutton. Again.

Relentless, venomous Sutton.

Samuel shifted uncomfortably, his voice softer now. “Also… Ms. Hudson, I saw Patrick’s car pulling away just as I got here.”

Silence slammed down between them.

It wasn’t Noah last night. It was Patrick.

She should have known better. Should’ve kept her walls high, her heart distant, especially when her husband’s death still hung fresh in the air.

How could she…

Sadie’s guilt deepened. She felt awful.

Even after she returned to the office, her thoughts remained a chaotic tangle.

“Earth to Sadie,” came a voice–smooth, amused, and far too close.

Sadie jolted, reality snapping back like a rubber band. Blaine stood beside her, wearing that trademark smirk, his eyes. scanning her face like he was reading a page.

“What’s got you so flustered this early? What happened?” He lifted a brow, playfully skeptical.

Sadie shot him a look. “Mind your own business.”

She steadied herself with a breath and forced a shift in tone. “Anyway, what are you doing here?”

A quick subject change–anything to avoid being bothered by Blaine.

He offered a shrug, palms up.

“The Burgess Group called a meeting to move forward on the partnership.” He paused, letting irritation slip into his voice. “Sutton’s missing–no calls, no texts, nowhere to be seen. And Patrick? He suddenly bailed last minute.”

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The mention of Patrick made Sadie flinch. Subtle, but there.

She avoided Blaine’s gaze, words clipped. “If Mr. Noel’s not showing up, you’ll have to handle it solo.”

With that, she spun on her heel and vanished into her office, the door shutting behind her with a sharp finality.

Blaine stared after her, brow furrowed, a little stunned.

What was wrong with Sadie today?

She seemed distant. Tense. Like a wire pulled taut and ready to snap.

Behind the office door, Sadie sat motionless–at least on the outside.

She snatched up the internal line. “Samuel,” she said, her voice as cold as cut glass. “Those thugs from last night–deal with them. And as for Sutton… He’s no longer worth keeping alive in this game.”

That bastard actually dared to harm her.

A beat of hesitation crackled over the line. “Ms. Hudson… those men were already taken by Mr. Noel’s people last night.

And Sutton… well, he’s vanished.”

Sadie’s lips parted slightly in shock.

She slowly set the phone down, fingers tightening around the sleek mask in her hand. She turned it over and over, unable to still the storm churning inside her.

In an abandoned factory in the suburbs, the thugs from the night before hung by their wrists, suspended like grotesque marionettes, their cries echoing through the rusting beams.

Just outside, a matte–black Maybach idled. From within, Noah watched–silent, detached, cold.

A man in black approached the car, his steps crisp and precise.

“Mr. Noel,” he said, bowing slightly. “Sutton’s inside.”

Noah stepped out, his movements deliberate. He took the wooden bat handed to him–no words exchanged.

The factory was dark and wet, the stench of alcohol and rust in the air.

Sutton lay slumped on a chair, hands bound. Drunk and unaware.

Noah didn’t hesitate. He lifted the bat.

Crack!

The sound was brutal, final.

Sutton stirred, eyes fluttering open, fogged with alcohol and confusion.

Shapes swam in his vision until one figure came into sharp focus- tall, composed, and terrifyingly familiar.

Noah stood over him. No mask. No disguise. Just cold, unforgiving clarity.

Sutton’s breath caught in his throat. He didn’t even scream. He couldn’t. Terror strangled the sound before it could leave

his lungs.

But… Noah was supposed to be dead.

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Then who–what–was this?

Sutton’s eyes widened, the blood draining from his face. A cold sweat slicked his skin as reality began to twist around him.

Noah’s gaze shifted toward the bodyguard silently waiting beside him.

His voice was ice wrapped in velvet. “Since Mr. Wall enjoys women so much… then let him enjoy himself to the fullest.”

“Understood, Mr. Noel.”

The title hit Sutton like a hammer. Mr. Noel?

Patrick was Noah?

No. No, that couldn’t be.

His head thrashed in disbelief, panic setting in like wildfire.

But Noah was already turning away, indifferent.

He didn’t even look back.

Behind him, the bodyguards stepped forward, blades drawn.

And then came the screams–raw, frenzied, helpless.

Noah slid into the back seat of the Maybach, closing the door quietly.

“Mr. Noel, where to now?” the driver asked respectfully. “Ms. Burgess has been waiting for you, having called several times.”

Noah’s brow furrowed faintly.

Almost instinctively, he murmured, “Myrtlewood Estate.”

The words slipped out before he could stop them. A beat of silence followed.

The driver blinked, confused.