Flash Marriage to a Stunning CEO (Alistair and Richard) novel Chapter 44

Chapter 44 Master

The tension cracked the moment Richard came storming out after

Rebecca.

He spotted Alistair and immediately scoffed, his lips curling into a sneer, “Well, what do we have here?”

No one answered.

Rebecca’s eyes were already red, but the second she saw Alistair, her expression wavered, and they brimmed with deeper hurt.

She looked devastated.

When their eyes briefly met and Alistair turned away without a word, she looked even more heartbroken.

Richard hated being ignored–by anyone. Whether it was Rebecca or Alistair, it bruised his ego all the same.

“Alistair, let’s be clear here. You’re divorced. You’ve got no reason to be here, so stop hanging around like a stray dog.”

Alistair glanced at him–once, lazily, with the kind of contempt

that said more than any insult could. His eyes all but spelled out the word–pathetic.

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Richard reached for Rebecca’s wrist. “Don’t bother with him. Let’s go.”

She yanked her hand back with a glare he didn’t recognize. “Get away from me.”

Alistair, who’d already turned to leave, paused mid–step.

Wait. What?

Weren’t they supposed to be the kind of couple who couldn’t keep their hands off each other, the type who fed each other dessert in public and called it romance?

If they argued at all, it should be over Richard glancing too long at a waitress–Rebecca would lose it, accuse him of betrayal, and then make him beg for forgiveness.

But this? This looked like a breakup. Like she wanted him gone for good.

Did I get this all wrong?

Then again, it didn’t concern him.

“Let’s go, Alban,” he said quietly.

“Yes, sir. This way.”

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20 min left.

Alistair didn’t miss the sharp shift in atmosphere behind him. He

smiled.

Alban had done that on purpose.

That one word–sir–had effectively shut down the argument

behind them.

Richard blinked. “Wait–sir?”

Rebecca said nothing. Her lips were pressed tight, her eyes locked on Alistair’s retreating back. His figure was tall and elegant, his stride steady, his whole presence… unfamiliar in the worst way.

How did I never see it before?

The words Cordelia had whispered to her came rushing back.

“No parent wants to see their child suffer. Rebecca, if you ever come to your senses–if you want to reconcile with Alistair–we won’t stand in your way. He’s proven himself. He passed every test your father and I could throw at him. Compared to the people we’ve met in our lifetime, Alistair stands out. If you’re with him, we’ll finally be able to stop worrying.”

As Alistair disappeared from view, something hollow cracked open inside her. Like someone had scooped out her chest and left

Chapter 44 Master

it echoing.

Richard snorted, “What now? Still hung up on your ex? You

always had a thing for him, didn’t you?”

Rebecca didn’t answer. Her lashes fluttered down like a curtain falling on a scene she didn’t want to watch.

He stepped closer, tone sharp. “I’ll ask one last time–are we getting married today or not?”

She lifted her chin slowly and met his gaze head–on. “No, we’re

not.”

Maybe it was true what they said–people only wanted what they

couldn’t have.

Because whatever love she once felt for Richard was gone, buried beneath disappointment and something sourer.

She looked at the face she once adored, and all she could feel now was disgust.

“Fine,” Richard snapped, yanking open the car door. “You’d better not come crying back to me when you regret this.”

As he turned to get in, his eyes caught the sleek black Bentley parked next to him.

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If he wasn’t mistaken, It was Alistair’s.

And hadn’t Alistair been chauffeured around in a Maybach the other day outside Daniel’s school?

Custom suits. High–end rides. And now–being called sir?

Wait. Is Alistair some kind of secret heir?

No. That didn’t track. Back in school, he was dirt poor. If he’d been old money, why grovel for years just to scrape together two million

dollars?

Unless…

Richard’s mind raced.

What if he was a lost son of some rich family, only found after the

divorce?

The jealousy twisted in his gut.

Why does he get so lucky?

But then came a new theory.

One that comforted him just enough to smirk again.

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→→→→→19 min Jett

No. No, I get it now. Alistair’s being kept. He’s got a sugar mama. One of those rich, wrinkled, perfume–drenched women who giggle like hyenas. That’s it. That’s the only explanation.

“Your ex really hit the jackpot,” he muttered, dripping sarcasm.

“Guess that pretty face finally paid off.”

Rebecca opened her mouth.

He cut her off, smirking. “Changed your mind? Too bad. I’m not in the mood anymore. We’ll talk about the whole getting registered thing some other day.”

He turned to leave. But then-

“That’s my car.” She didn’t raise her voice, didn’t scream, and just

stated it, calm and sharp.

Richard froze.

He let out a bitter laugh, slammed the door shut, and tossed the keys at her feet. Then he walked away.

Rebecca crouched to pick them up.

This time, she knew–he was actually mad.

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**) 19 min left

Richard, with all his arrogance, probably wouldn’t come back.

And somehow, she didn’t care.

Not even a little.

Once they were out of sight, Alban dropped the formal tone

entirely.