Her fifth daughter died, so she deleted his bloodline. novel Chapter 166

Chapter 19

But Sloane knew-Declan wasn’t the kind of man to give up easily.

He spent the entire night kneeling in front of her apartment building.

The next morning. Sloane deliberately left early, hoping to avoid him. But on the walk to the bakery, a sleek red

convertible crept up behind her like a ghost.

“Sloane, please… just give me a chance. Let me make things right.”

“I know I’m a bastard who doesn’t deserve forgiveness. I could kneel for days, punish myself however you want, and it still wouldn’t compare to a fraction of the pain you went through.”

“But I never wanted a divorce. I’ve already had Vivienne committed to a psych hospital. I never loved her-not for a

second.”

His voice, thick with pleading, made Sloane’s brows furrow deeply.

All that noise. It was exhausting.

She finally stopped walking, arms crossed, a cold smirk tugging at her lips as she glanced toward the man inside the car- just as another vehicle roared up behind them. A black Rolls-Royce Phantom.

“BANG-

Without hesitation, it slammed into the rear of Declan’s convertible with a thunderous crash. The impact sent the sports car skidding sideways into a tree.

The driver’s door of the Phantom opened, and a man in a light gray suit stepped out, long legs moving with deliberate grace. He walked straight to the driver’s side of the wrecked convertible.

Devlin leaned down, calmly peering into the stunned face of Declan. Then he flicked a business card into his lap.

“Sorry, sir. You were crawling along and holding up traffic. Honestly, it was kind of hard to watch.”

His refined features curved into a polite smile. “For the repairs, feel free to contact my assistant.”

Sloane stood frozen, just as stunned as Declan. Then she rushed over. “Devlin?! What are you doing here? Are you hurt?”

Devlin dusted off his sleeve like nothing had happened. “Your roommate texted me last night. Said you might be in a bit

of trouble.”

Her heart softened. A smile tugged at her lips, sheepish. “Well… I think it’s handled now. Come on, let’s go.”

She moved toward his car, ready to get in. The easy familiarity between them-too natural, too close-was like gasoline

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on Declan’s emotional fire.

He flew out of the convertible and grabbed her wrist tightly. “Sloane, who is he?”

“Don’t go with him. I won’t let you leave with another man!” His voice was irrational, bordering on madness.

In the next second, a sharp pain shot through his shoulder. Devlin grabbed Declan by the wrist and flung his hand away

from Sloane.

“You’re hurting her.” He stepped between them, shielding her with his body. “Mr. Hawthorne, take the hint. Stop showing

up like this. A decent ex-husband should act like he’s dead.”

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