HIS REGRET (Ex-Husband wants Me Back) novel Chapter 442

Chapter 442

Oscar looked away.

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“Say it before I lose my patience,” Cale said with a faint smile. “You know this place well, don’t you? There’s no way out.”

Oscar growled in frustration; his glare fixed on Cale. His eyes flicked around the room-not just now, but as they had ever since he’d been brought here. This was a place Cale often used to get what he wanted. By the dirtiest, most unexpected means. Because while many knew Cale as a dignified man who led several Miller Group subsidiaries, just as many knew him as someone with ice-cold hands.

Hands that never hesitated once they had a grip on something-on someone. Hands that could force an opponent to bend to his will. And the people around Cale were just as dangerous.

The man was right. There was no escape.

“Back then,” Oscar finally said, his voice lower now, refusing to meet Cale’s eyes, “Harold did mention Selena’s name. A long time ago.”

“In what context?” Cale asked.

“Cooperation,” Oscar replied reluctantly. “He wanted access to Chase Miller’s foundation. Submitted a proposal for a partnership-redirecting certain city management fund flows. You know he has influence in that area, right?”

“And?” Cale pressed.

“He was rejected,” Oscar said shortly. “Chase didn’t like the way they operated.”

Cale nodded slowly. “That’s all?”

“No.” Oscar took a deep breath. “The rejection made Harold furious. He said there was someone else who would take care of the ‘family’ side of things.”

“And he used that woman as his main pawn to shake Chase,” Cale said.

Oscar went silent, no longer denying it. That was enough for Cale.

Cale stood, straightening the sleeves of his shirt he’d rolled up earlier. “Thank you. You’ve just saved me a lot of time.”

Oscar stared at him, eyes wide. “That’s it?”

“For now,” Cale replied. “And believe me, I don’t need you any longer than this.”

“You can’t do this to me, Cale! Harold will come looking for me, and you’ll pay for it!”

Cale chuckled. “If that’s true, then I’m ready to face it.”

He turned and walked out, leaving Oscar behind-breathing heavily, his face finally stripped of its arrogance.

“Damn it! I hope Harold realizes I’m not the main source of information anymore. He’ll come for me, Cale. Remember that!” Cale merely patted the shoulders of the men assigned to watch over Oscar. With a sly grin and a look that carried clear disdain, he said, “You can have your fun with him. Just don’t let him die.”

Almost at the same time, bad news broke from overseas-

this time, it could no longer be contained within internal reports.

In JiangShe, Callister’s project had come under intense public scrutiny once again. This wasn’t ordinary criticism. The local court officially ordered a temporary seizure of one of the development zones after a sharp surge in resident protests. Local media ran biting headlines; ethical violations in business practices foreign corporations ignoring local law, giant investors behind civilian suffering.

The name Callister stood out clearly.

“The losses are significant,” one analyst reported via video conference, his face tense as red graphs filled the screen. “Local

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Chapter 442

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partners have lost nearly twelve percent of their market value in two hours. Global sentiment is being affected as well. There are signs that institutional investors are starting to unload their shares.”

“What’s our direct exposure?” Daven asked.

“Not final yet, sir. But if the seizure lasts longer than seven days, direct losses could reach hundreds of millions.”

The room fell silent. With a single tap, Daven closed the conference screen. His movements were calm-too calm for a situation like this. His jaw tightened, his breath held a fraction longer than usual.

“Freeze all expansion in East Asia,” he said at last. “Suspend new projects. Redirect focus to legal and communications teams. I don’t want a single statement released without my approval.”

“Yes, sir,” several voices answered almost in unison.

Before he could step away from the desk, his phone vibrated. An unknown number. Daven stared at the screen for a few seconds -his instincts immediately alert-then answered.

“Daven Callister.”

“Good afternoon, Mr. Callister. This is Prosecutor Zhang Wei,” came the official, clipped voice on the other end. “We would like to schedule a discussion regarding the JiangShe project seizure.”

Daven’s fingers curled slowly against the edge of the desk. “On what grounds?”

“There are indications of procedural violations and possible links to third parties currently under investigation,” Zhang replied without preamble. “This is not an accusation. But we require direct clarification.”

Daven drew a steady breath. “When?”

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