Mr Melendez Your Wife Wants Divorce Long Ago novel Chapter 140

**Her Spark Ignites Tonight**
By J.S. Caldwell

**Chapter 140**

With a swift motion, Arabella thrust her vibrating phone into Jayceon’s line of sight, her expression a mixture of urgency and defiance. “Before you unleash your anger on me, perhaps you should focus on extinguishing the flames your grandfather has ignited,” she urged, her tone laced with a hint of mischief.

Just as she was about to elaborate, the doorbell’s chime interrupted their exchange, ringing through the tension-filled air.

The family butler stood at the entrance, his demeanor formal and respectful. “Sir, Mrs. Melendez, the old master requests your immediate presence at the old mansion,” he announced, his voice steady yet urgent.

“Let’s go,” Jayceon responded, but before he could gather his thoughts, Arabella had already slipped past him, eager to leave the moment behind.

Once inside the car, Jayceon was absorbed in a conversation on his phone, his brow furrowed in concentration. Arabella settled into her seat beside him, deliberately maintaining a distance as if the unfolding chaos had nothing to do with her.

As the car rolled to a halt in the expansive courtyard of the Melendez mansion, Arabella stepped out, the grandeur of the estate looming around her. Jayceon followed closely, his phone call still echoing in his mind.

“Wait,” he called out, grasping Arabella’s wrist in a futile attempt to halt her progress.

Without a second thought, Arabella shook off his hand, her attention already shifting to Kimberly, who stood a short distance away, waving enthusiastically.

She was all too aware of what Jayceon wanted to convey; he was merely trying to remind her to tread carefully in the presence of the Melendez elders, to avoid any missteps that could further complicate their already precarious situation.

In the grand living room, Arabella paused, taking a deep breath as she greeted each elder with a polite nod, her heart racing beneath her composed exterior.

Conrad, with a frown etched on his face, turned sharply to his son. “Look at the mess you’ve created!” he accused, his voice booming with authority.

Jayceon, ever the picture of calm, replied, “It was my oversight this time. I assure you, I will be more vigilant moving forward.”

Tabitha, unable to restrain her sharp tongue, interjected, “If you play with fire, you’re bound to get burned! Do you honestly think you can sidestep this disaster just by ‘being careful’?”

Conrad’s fury ignited further. “Find the reporter who leaked this story at once! I’ll ensure she is blacklisted from Zelmere forever!”

Casting a subtle glance in Arabella’s direction, Jayceon interjected, “Dad, this is my fault. It’s not anyone else’s doing.”

Seated regally on the main sofa, Sir surveyed the scene with a piercing gaze that could cut through steel.

Oliver, ever the dutiful servant, ushered the other staff members out of the room before escorting Kimberly upstairs, leaving the tension thick in the air.

He returned, whip in hand, standing stoically behind Sir, who was now a tempest of fury. “Kneel!” he bellowed, his voice a thunderclap in the stillness.

Jayceon, glancing at Arabella, removed his suit jacket and handed it to her with a silent plea in his eyes. Arabella accepted it with a calm demeanor, draping it over her arm as if it were nothing more than a casual accessory.

A sense of helplessness washed over her as she turned her gaze away, torn between her maternal instincts and the harsh reality of the situation.

In a marriage, the most terrifying realization is when one partner invests their entire being, while the other remains utterly unmoved, indifferent to their sacrifices.

For Arabella, the most painful truth was that she had squandered her youth and affection on a man who failed to recognize her worth.

Moments later, Sir raised his hand, signaling Oliver to put the whip away and assist Jayceon to his feet.

The back of Jayceon’s once pristine white shirt was now a gruesome sight, stained and torn, a testament to his suffering.

He bore the sharp pain with stoic resolve as he made his way to Arabella’s side, his eyes pleading for her acknowledgment.

But Arabella, still trapped in her own turmoil, refused to meet his gaze, her focus unwaveringly downward.

Sir’s eyes, clouded yet glinting with authority, bore into them. “We will hold a press conference first thing tomorrow morning. The two of you will appear together to clear up this scandal,” he commanded, his tone leaving no room for dissent.

Arabella’s gaze remained fixed on the floor, her heart heavy with the realization that, in the eyes of the Melendez men, infidelity was overshadowed by the pursuit of profit.

To the Melendez family, she was merely an ornament, a convenient facade they could employ whenever it suited their needs.