From Discarded Wife to Queen (Tyrone) novel Chapter 246

Chapter 246 Retort

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Aella said in a steady tone, “I’ve done nothing wrong. The one who should leave isn’t me.”

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Finished

She looked at the soaked and broken Zera before her. Her eyes were calm. She turned away without hesitation.

Where you fall, you stand back up.

She would live bright. She would live free.

Even if the people who hurt her stood within reach, she would never let them near her again.

Across the street, a black car sat in the rain. The tinted window slid down slowly.

Tyrone’s gaze followed Aella’s figure until it disappeared into the dark.

Brad, sitting beside him, pointed at Zera, who was kneeling in the rain. “I know you feel bad for her,” he said. “Aella’s gone. You might as well get out and comfort your poor girl.”

Tyrone lit a cigarette, his tone flat. “You don’t have to be sarcastic. I kept Zera for a reason.”

Brad tilted his head, studying him. “You’ve changed. I didn’t expect you to think that far ahead.”

Tyrone held the cigarette between his fingers, watching Zera through the smoke and rain.

“Aella and I are living apart,” he said quietly. “Don’t stir things up.”

Brad smirked. “If Zera causes real trouble, will you turn her in yourself?”

Tyrone turned his head.

“The law draws a line. Nobody crosses it. Not her. Not anyone.”

Brad chuckled. “You can talk about justice all you want, but it won’t change the truth. The day Aella ended that pregnancy behind your back, she cut you out of her heart.”

Tyrone’s eyes dimmed. Pain flickered deep inside them.

“People make mistakes,” he said softly. “We’re still young. I believe Aella and I will make it right.”

Brad pressed his lips together, unsure what to say.

Across the street, Zera climbed into a taxi, phone pressed to her ear. Brad pointed. “Where’s she heading this late?”

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Chapter 246 Retort

Tyrone dropped his half–burned cigarette and stepped on it. “We’ll follow her.”

Finished

They trailed her through the empty streets, from the station to the apartment Tyrone had once arranged for her.

Zera got out of the car with a man beside her. They hurried through the gate together. Brad leaned back, whistling. “Your lover’s bringing another man home. You’re not going up to see for yourself?”

Tyrone shot him a cold glance and called Noel. “Pull the footage,” he said.

Brad gave a lazy shrug and followed him back to the complex.

When the elevator doors opened on the ninth floor, they saw Raine leaning on the doorway, her eyes half–closed, her body swaying. The men exchanged a look.

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The next day came, but the rain still hadn’t stopped.

Tyrone knocked on the door of Aella’s office and stepped inside.

She was resting, a thin blanket over her legs. He set a lunch box on her desk.

Aella sat up and looked at him. “What do you want?”

Tyrone crouched in front of her.

“Aella,” he said quietly, “my mother’s sick. Will you come home with me to see her?”

Aella hesitated for a moment, then nodded.

The tension in Tyrone’s face eased. “I’ll pick you up after work,” he said.

Aella shook her head. “You go first. I’ll come by myself.”

His eyes lingered on her face.

He stayed quiet for a while before saying, “Then get some rest. I’ll wait for you at the Winter Estate.”

He straightened the blanket on her knees, his movements slow and gentle, then stood and left.

That evening, Tyrone returned to the Winter Estate.

He told the chefs to prepare all of Aella’s favorite dishes, then paced in front of the tall window, watching the rain hit the glass.

When the butler saw Aella’s car entering the gate, Tyrone took an umbrella and went out to meet her. The old butler watched him walk into the storm and let out a long, quiet sigh.

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