He Lost Me to His Best Friend novel Chapter 901

Scarlett closed her eyes, a soft tremble running through her body. Julian's hand slipped beneath her sleepwear, gently caressing the slender, soft curve of her waist. The desire he had suppressed for over thirty years surged like a tidal wave—expanding, overwhelming, and entirely out of control. It was like a wild stallion he couldn't hope to rein in. His kisses were deep, urgent, and fiercely affectionate.

Eyes still closed, Scarlett surrendered to the tempest of his passion. In that moment, she felt like a long-dormant fortress, surrounded by an army thundering outside her gates, shouting and laying siege to break through her final defenses.

But just as Julian's hand traced lower toward her abdomen, and everything was poised to tip over the edge, his phone shattered the silence. The shrill ringtone instantly derailed their rhythm.

Frowning, Julian reluctantly reached for his phone and glanced at the screen. It was an unfamiliar landline number. He knew that Kane Stetson's case was currently in a highly sensitive phase. To avoid tipping off the criminal's vast network, all interrogations and arrests were being conducted in absolute secrecy. Kane had been entrenched in Myanor for years; his sphere of influence was massive, involving staggering amounts of money and a labyrinth of complex connections. Even though Julian's uncle was personally overseeing the case in the shadows, every move had to be executed with extreme caution.

Julian worried this might be a call from his uncle's team. After all, both he and Scarlett were crucial links in the ongoing sting operation, and they might need to verify information at a moment's notice. Despite the late hour, he couldn't risk ignoring it.

Taking a breath to steady his racing heart, he answered the call.

Instead of an investigator, a familiar, hysterical, and shrill female voice practically shrieked through the speaker.

"Julian Croft, you ungrateful, heartless bastard!"

"You're not even married to Scarlett yet, and your family is already giving her so much! Why are you treating her like royalty?"

"You must be agonizing over the fact that you held gold in your hands, yet you chose to throw it away for a piece of trash like Kane. Look where that got you."

Scarlett's words were a surgical strike to Sylvia's deepest insecurities.

At that very moment, Sylvia was locked alone in her villa, surrounded by a sea of empty liquor bottles. Scarlett was right—she was drowning in regret. After divorcing Julian, the stark plunge in her standard of living made her brutally aware that every ounce of prestige she once enjoyed had been given to her by him. She had thought she was a radiant pearl, only to realize she was just a dirty glass marble tossed into the garbage.

Now, she was a pariah. A rat crossing the street that everyone wanted to kick. No one wanted to be near her, and she had no way out. Her pride had been systematically pulverized by one devastating blow after another.