Divorce to Destiny: Reclaiming My CEO Husband novel Chapter 314

314 Arrival in Brussels 

(Jayden) 

I step out of the jet, and the crisp European air hits me immediately–cleaner, cooler, it smells fartly of rain, earth, and something else I can’t place. It feels… old. Ancient, even 

This place has history, layers of it. 

ก 

At the bottom of the stairs, I spot the two men I was told would be waiting Victor Balázs, head of security, stands with his arms folded across his chest, 

He’s tall and built like he could take down a bear with his bare hands. Dressed in black tactical gear, his stance is solid, like nothing could knock him over. 

His face is set, but there’s an ease in the way he carries himself. I’ve read his file–ex–military, Hungar a force of nature in his field. 

Next to him stands Hugo Devereux, the man Gus has trusted for decades. He’s everything I imagined tall, lean, and dripping with French superiority. The way his gray hair is slicked back, his sharp suit perfectly tailored, it’s like he’s stepped out of some European fashion magazine. 

He’s got the air of someone who believes the world should be grateful he exists. I’d already gathered that from his phone calls. And judging by his thin smile, I can already tell he’s not exactly thrilled to have to bother with me. 

“Ah, Monsieur Brennan,” Hugo says, with an accent so thick it almost feels like he’s mocking me. His handshake is brief, just polite enough to be cordial. “Welcome to Brussels. Bienvenue.” 

“Thanks. It’s great to be here,” I say, trying to match his formality. I know my business, I know what I’m capable of, but Hugo’s look down his nose at me screams, you’re out of your depth here. 

Viktor, on the other hand, steps forward with a nod, a lot less formal but far more reassuring. “Mr. Brennan,” he says in his deep Hungarian–accented English. “I trust the flight was comfortable?” 

“Yeah, all good. Thanks.” 

Viktor nods, his eyes already scanning the surroundings, assessing everything like a man who doesn’t take chances with security. “Brussels can be unpredictable. We’ll make sure you’re safe.” 

“Safe?” Hugo i 

interjects with a smirk, his arms folded across his chest. “Viktor, this is not the jungle. It’s Brussels. Civilisé, non?” He gives Viktor a sideways glance, as if suggesting the need for such overt security is absurd here. 

Viktor doesn’t flinch. His tone stays even, but there’s steel underneath. “Security is always paramount, Hugo. No matter how civilized you think the place, or yourself, is.” 

I feel the tension instantly. These two aren’t on the same page. Hugo’s got that old–world European polish, and Viktor’s the no–nonsense, boots–on–the–ground guy. 

They’re on opposite ends of the spectrum, and it’s clear they clash. But Gus has trusted them with his -whole life, so I see no reason not to do the same. 

“Shall we?” Hugo says, nodding toward the sleek black car waiting near the runway. 

As we drive through the city, Brussels unfolds in front of me. It’s a mix of the old and the modem- elegant buildings with centuries–old architecture, cobblestone streets, and lush parks, all with high–end designer shops squeezed between them. 

Everything feels… quieter, more deliberate, compared to the chaotic energy back in the States. Here, the pace is slower but somehow heavier, like every moverent means something. 

I flick a quick text to Winona, telling her I’m safe and well and heading to the office now. I know we have a time difference, but I also know she will be waiting on my contact. 

I glance out the window, catching glimpses of cathedrals and grand stone buildings. The skyline is dotted with spires, and in the distance, I can see the rolling hills beyond the city. 

It’s beautiful in a way that feels very foreign to me, like a painting I’ve stepped into. Even the air smells different here–fresh, with a tinge of something earthy. 

“You’ll find Brussels a city of discretion, Mr. Brennan,” Hugo says from beside me, barely turning his head. “The perfect place for a company like Nexus Global to operate. Understated, yet immensely powerful. A place where decisions are made quietly, but with far–reaching consequences.” 

His words are carefully chosen, every syllable dripping with an unspoken message: You don’t belong here. 

I give a noncommittal nod, knowing this will be an uphill battle with him. “I’m looking forward to learning 

more.”