From Discarded Wife to Queen (Tyrone) novel Chapter 439

**TITLE: Obsidian Dawn 439**
**CONTENT: Chapter 489 Scheme to Start Over**

“Ms. Caldwell, please hold on a moment—Mr. Winter is currently in a meeting,” Noel informed her, his voice steady yet apologetic. He then turned and stepped out of the office, leaving Zera in a realm of her own thoughts.

Alone in Tyrone’s office, Zera’s fingers glided over the luxurious items scattered across the desk, her eyes sparkling with a mix of awe and envy.

So, poverty had truly limited her imagination in ways she had never fully comprehended.

The sheer scale of the office astonished her; it was a world of opulence she had never envisioned. There were distinct zones, each more extravagant than the last, and a private suite dedicated solely to relaxation.

She couldn’t afford to surrender to despair now.

When Tyrone finally entered, she would unleash every accusation against Shirley and Julian’s family—claiming they had threatened her, that they had forced her into a corner.

She would find a way to extract a promise from him, ensuring he would keep her secret safe, that no one would ever know she had borne a child.

If she could just soften his heart, perhaps—just perhaps—there might still be hope for them.

Feeling an irresistible pull, Zera found herself drawn to Tyrone’s desk.

On the monitor, a wedding photo dominated the screen. Her gaze fixated on the woman’s face, a venomous intensity in her eyes.

So, this was Tyrone’s fiancée—the audacious woman who had orchestrated her return to Vleka and had nearly sent her spiraling into prison.

Once she navigated through the current chaos, she would ensure that this woman faced consequences.

With a furtive glance around the room, Zera discreetly pulled out her phone and captured a covert image of the wedding photo, saving it with a sense of triumph.

Yet, even after that act, the image only ignited her fury further.

She moved the mouse and clicked the X, closing the window with a sense of finality.

Moments later, Noel reappeared. “Ms. Caldwell, Mr. Winter had an urgent matter to attend to and has left the building. You will need to schedule another appointment.”

Zera had no choice but to retreat for the time being.

Noel rushed directly to the conference room. “Mr. Winter, Ms. Caldwell has departed.”

Tyrone, tall and imposing in his tailored suit, stood with his back to the door, gazing out the floor-to-ceiling windows.

Without turning to face Noel, he commanded, “From now until tomorrow evening, my office is off-limits to everyone.”

“Yes, sir,” Noel replied, backing out swiftly and locking the CEO’s suite behind him.

This Ms. Caldwell—of all people to provoke—had chosen to poke the lion.

Honestly, she was just asking for trouble.

At noon, Zera made her way back to her aunt’s beauty clinic, her mind racing with thoughts and plans.

Raine yanked the coat free, her confidence radiating. “With you by my side, what do I have to fear?”

Brad attempted to settle the coat back on her shoulders, but Raine slapped it down, declaring it an eyesore.

The two stood there, a comical tug-of-war—one trying to put it on, the other determined to strip it off.

Raine’s temper flared. “Brad. Keller.”

He met the fiery spark in her eyes, lips pouting in mock defeat. He slung the coat over his own arm with a resigned sigh. “Alright, alright, no coat. No need to bite my head off.”

Raine re-looped her arm through his, a playful smile creeping onto her face. “Who told you to rile me up?”

They exchanged one last glare, a playful challenge, and then headed toward the doors.

Just before they crossed the threshold, Brad mischievously plucked the clip from her hair.

Her silk-dark locks cascaded over her shoulders, and he quickly swept a curtain of it forward, draping it over her chest.

Raine was about to explode in protest, but he hurriedly shifted the blame. “Which stylist did you hire? Can’t even pin a clip that stays put. We’re switching salons.”

As they entered the ballroom, Brad’s mind raced. This was all the fault of that menacing figure—her silhouette was lethal. Every dress she wore turned men into feral beasts, and she reveled in showcasing her allure.

Every outing felt like a battle; he was either shielding her from unwanted attention or worrying himself into an early grave.