Begging for a Second Chance (Sienna Sloan and Jarred Sterling) novel Chapter 130

Dusk fell.

Solstice Hill was ablaze with lights.

Beneath the chandelier, a long dining table meant for twelve held only one occupant: Jarred.

A grand feast covered the table, entirely untouched.

The dishes had gone from piping hot to lukewarm, and finally to stone cold, resembling a lavish spread of offerings for the dead.

Jarred sat at the head of the table, his fingertips idly tracing the rim of a bone china cup. His striking features were clouded with an unshakable exhaustion.

Ever since Sienna moved out, he had been the sole diner in this sprawling dining room.

The most exquisite delicacies tasted like ash in his mouth.

Having already lost his appetite, his gaze drifted to the empty seat opposite him. A heavy, suffocating weight pressed down on his chest.

Half a month.

It had been half a month since Sienna moved out.

This mansion was as quiet as a mausoleum.

"Mr. Sterling."

His assistant, Declan, stepped in cautiously, looking deeply conflicted, as if navigating a minefield.

Jarred didn't move. He didn't even blink, merely letting out a low hum of acknowledgment. The drawn-out note made it clear he didn't expect good news.

Declan swallowed hard, taking two steps forward to stand by the dining table. He kept his head bowed as he reported, "About the hospital... we've tried everything we could."

Jarred's fingers stilled for a fraction of a second.

"Director Coleman gave the orders personally," Declan murmured, his voice dropping as if he were guilty of a crime.

"Forget about checking on her recovery... Madam's medical records have been completely sealed. We can't even find out if she's healing, or if she's been discharged. Furthermore...

All the flowers and gifts you sent were returned unopened."

Jarred slowly raised his eyes to Declan, his gaze as eerily calm as stagnant water.

Only Declan knew that beneath this stagnant surface lurked a deadly undercurrent that could swallow a man whole.

"Is that all?"

He lowered his head, glancing at his left hand.

The wedding band on his ring finger glowed softly under the chandelier's light.

He had thought he was the only one counting the grueling seconds in the dead of night.

He believed his paranoia and sheer refusal to let go were the only obsessions keeping this marriage alive.

But to his surprise, she remembered much more clearly than he did.

She had even flawlessly paved her way out.

Hiring the best divorce lawyer?

She wanted to seal off every possible path he could take to reach her, dead set on escaping his world completely.

His chest seized violently, as if crushed by a phantom grip, the pain so intense he could barely breathe.

He had been born with a silver spoon, standing high above the clouds.

He possessed wealth and power that others couldn't achieve in a lifetime, living in the pinnacle of luxury.