Ignore Hubby and Son's Regret Shining Now novel Chapter 13

Chapter 13 Sign It and I’ll Come Home

Finished

“The seller just threw two percent of Blackwell Group’s shares onto the market. That’s a big move! I even had someone keeping an eye on it for you.”

Brian’s tone was casual, but curiosity burned in his voice. “Come on, spill it. Don’t tell me you’re broke, Mr. Blackwell. Selling your own shares?”

Nevin already knew the truth.

At this point, the only person who would sell those shares was Demi.

“Buy those shares,” he said calmly. “And grab whatever loose shares you can find in the market while you’re at it.”

He hung up after giving a few more instructions. For a long moment, he stared blankly at his desk before dialing another number–Rhea’s.

“Mr. Blackwell, you’re calling me this late because … ?”

In a quiet apartment, Rhea’s heart skipped when her phone buzzed in the middle of the night.

A call from Nevin at this hour? She tried to sound calm as she answered. “Rhea, buy every share that just hit the market,” Nevin said without a trace of emotion.

“Yes, Mr. Blackwell.”

When the call ended, Rhea sat in bed, a strange mix of disappointment and excitement twisting inside her. He hadn’t called for romance, just business. Still, the fact that he trusted her with something so important meant she still mattered to him.

Meanwhile, Nevin set his phone down and stared out the window. His mind drifted to Demi.

He had to admit, Rhea was efficient, but she was that way because Demi had trained her. Demi always had an eye for talent, always knew how to turn chaos into order.

Nevin stood there for a while, memories from the past seven years flooding back–the late nights, the quiet dinners, the smiles she once gave him.

By the time he came back to himself, he was already dialing her number.

The phone rang for thirty long seconds. He almost thought she had blocked him, until her voice came through, cold and distant.

“What do you want?”

Her voice was cold, stripped of all pretense, distant, almost heartless. Nevin pressed his lips together and said quietly, “The two percent of the company’s shares. You’re the one who sold them, aren’t you?”

It wasn’t a question. It was a statement.

Demi didn’t even try to deny it. “Yeah.”

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He gave a short, humorless laugh. “So, that’s your way of getting back at me?”

Demi’s tone was sharp and calm. “Don’t flatter yourself. Nevin. I just want a little cushion after the divorce. You didn’t forget, did you? I’m the one who agreed to walk away with nothing.”

Whenever the topic came up. Nevin would fall silent. “Demi, you should stop while you can. Talking about divorce too much hurts the feelings.”

She let out a small, humorless laugh. “We still have feelings?”

“How many times do I have to explain? Rhea and I are just-

“I’m not interested in whatever you and Rhea are, Demi cut him off, impatient. “Those two percent of the company shares belong to me. I have every right to decide what to do with them.”

“Where are you right now?” Nevin tried to steer the conversation away. “I’ll come pick you up. Let’s talk face–to–face.”

Demi’s voice turned cold. “Sure. Sign the divorce papers first, and I’ll come back right away.”

“That’s not happening.

“Nothing’s impossible. Nevin. You’d better sign them while I’m still being reasonable. My patience has limits.

Her tone was firm, so firm that even she was surprised by how strong she sounded. It had been a long time since she’d spoken to Nevin like this.

“Don’t make me see you in court,” she said before hanging up.

Inside the villa, Nevin’s temper snapped. He slammed his phone to the floor, shattering it.

Even now, he refused to believe Demi would really go through with the divorce; she could actually walk away from him and from Orion.

The next day. Phoebe showed up, crisp and bright as ever.

“Demi, everything’s ready at the office. Come with me today and check in. You can start anytime.”

Over the past two days, she’d been handling work arrangements and even cleared out a new office for Demi.

“Alright, Demi said simply.

Half an hour later, they arrived at One Studio.

The brand she and Phoebe had built together years ago. It was now a well–known name in the international art scene.

It had been years since Demi worked on any illustration.

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Walking past the rows of exhibition boards, she studied each stunning design. Her eyes softened, and something deep inside her–something called art–slowly came alive again.

“Realizing how much you’ve missed, huh?”

Phoebe teased, watching the spark return to Demi’s face.

“Come on,” Phoebe said, waving her toward the hallway. “Let’s go to my office.”

Demi’s eyes wandered over the artwork on display. She suddenly felt a spark of inspiration, an urge to paint again.

As they chatted about the company’s growth over the years, Phoebe led her into the office. Demi smiled faintly. The decor matched Phoebe’s bold, creative taste perfectly.

If she hadn’t chosen marriage, if she hadn’t traded her brushes for domestic life, maybe her office would look like this now.

“Oh, by the way,” Phoebe said, pulling out a folder. “I want you to take someone under your wing. She’s a bright young woman, a top university grad, with great potential and really talented.”

Phoebe flipped through a folder and handed it to Demi. “Such a shame,” she said casually. “This girl’s from a poor family. Her parents only care about her brothers, but she’s tough. Worked her way into college, paid her own tuition fees, and graduated near the top of her class.”

Demi paused mid–page. Something about that sounded too familiar. “She wouldn’t happen to have a family pushing her into marriage for a wedding gift, would she?”

Phoebe blinked, surprised. “Wait! You know her?”

Demi shook her head, but Rhea’s face showed up in her mind.

She remembered the day Rhea had walked into her office years ago, fresh out of college, nervous and full of self–doubt.

Rejected by several companies, Rhea had told her that if she couldn’t find work in the city, her father would force her to marry someone she didn’t love.

There had been fear in her eyes, but also a spark of quiet determination.

Demi had felt sorry for her. Out of all the applicants that day, Rhea had the weakest résumé, but she’d chosen her anyway.

She’d taken Rhea under her wing, teaching her everything from business etiquette to design, step by step.

And Rhea had improved fast. Everyone in the office used to say she was becoming more and more like Demi.

But in the end?

She had spent all that time studying her every move, copying her style–only to end up wanting to replace

her.

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Comter 13 Sign : and I’ll Come Home

Elave someone else train her,” Demi said firmly, closing the folder. “I’ll find my own assistant.”

Once bitten, twice shy.

Phoebe didn’t argue. She just nodded and said softly, “Alright, it’s up to you.”

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