Mr Melendez Your Wife Wants Divorce Long Ago novel Chapter 180

**Her Spark Ignites Tonight**
**By J.S. Caldwell**
**Chapter 180**

Arthur sat on the edge of his bed, his fingers absently toying with his phone, a smirk creeping across his face as he admired his own reflection on the glossy screen. The light caught his features just right, highlighting the chiseled jawline and perfectly styled hair. He felt a surge of confidence, as if the world was his stage and he was the star performer.

Meanwhile, down below in the parking lot of the apartment building, Jayceon stepped out of his car, the weight of a storm gathering in his expression. His brow furrowed, and he turned to Steve, who was standing beside him, clipboard in hand. “Are you absolutely certain they’re on the eleventh floor?” he asked, his voice tinged with impatience.

Steve nodded with a firm resolve. “Yes, Mr. Melendez. Our investigation confirms that Arthur indeed purchased the eleventh-floor apartment just days ago. The sleek sports car parked next to Mr. Brennan’s? That belongs to him as well.”

Jayceon’s jaw tightened. “You can head back without me,” he said curtly, his mind already racing ahead to what awaited him inside.

Before he could finish his thought, the elevator doors slid open, and he stepped inside, his mood darkening further.

As the doors began to close, Samuel unexpectedly joined him, slipping in just in time. The two men exchanged a brief glance, but Samuel quickly averted his gaze, sensing the tension in the air.

Jayceon stood in silence, his face a mask of grim determination. The elevator hummed softly as it ascended, and when it reached the ninth floor, Jayceon remained rooted in place, prompting Samuel to glance back. The look on Jayceon’s face was far from reassuring; it was a storm brewing, ready to unleash its fury.

The elevator finally reached the eleventh floor, and Jayceon stepped out, Samuel trailing behind him like a shadow. Jayceon turned back to Samuel for a fleeting moment before he approached the door, his finger hovering over the doorbell.

When Arthur opened the door, his surprise quickly turned to alarm upon seeing Jayceon and Samuel standing there. In a flash, he attempted to shut the door, but Jayceon was quicker, pushing it open and stepping inside with an air of authority.

Samuel followed suit, sensing the tension that crackled in the air like static electricity.

Without uttering a single word, Jayceon made a beeline for the master bedroom, his heart pounding in his chest. As he entered, he found Arabella in the midst of making the bed, and his expression darkened even further. The sight of her in such a domestic setting, attending to Arthur, ignited a tempest of emotions within him.

Suppressing his rising anger, he approached her and gently but firmly took the pillow from her hands. “It’s too late for this. Come home with me,” he stated, his voice steady but laced with urgency.

Arabella, recognizing the familiar intensity in Jayceon’s tone, understood that he had reached his breaking point. She picked up the incense stick from the nightstand, ready to accompany him downstairs.

As they prepared to leave, she turned back to Arthur, her voice calm yet assertive. “Don’t forget to have the wall panel replaced tomorrow.”

Arthur blocked her path, a smirk playing on his lips. “Leaving already? You haven’t even put my pillowcase on for me,” he said, feigning innocence.

Jayceon shot him a fierce glare, his patience wearing thin. “My wife is your doctor, not your maid!” he snapped, his voice echoing with authority.

With that, he took Arabella’s hand firmly, leading her out of the apartment as if to shield her from Arthur’s presence.

Once they were gone, Samuel turned to Arthur, a teasing smile creeping across his face. “So, what’s the plan? Planning to steal his girlfriend?”

Arthur shrugged, his demeanor nonchalant. “Steal what?”

A flicker of sarcasm danced across Arabella’s lips, her defiance rising. “Jayceon, compared to your attitude, I think mine is perfectly fine,” she retorted, her voice steady. “It was my mistake to leave early without telling you. I forgot. But I called and messaged you back as soon as I remembered.”

Jayceon corrected her, his voice sharp. “The message you sent me said, ‘I’m home!’”

Arabella pouted, the fight slowly draining from her. “I was at the apartment building, which is basically home. Don’t get hung up on that,” she replied, attempting to defuse the situation.

Jayceon studied her face intently, taking a deep breath as he tried to rein in his emotions.

“It was wrong of me to let Arthur answer my phone. I was busy, and my hands were full. I didn’t want to miss your call, so please don’t read too much into it,” she explained, her voice softening. “As for making Arthur’s bed in the middle of the night, there’s really nothing more to explain. I was just lending a hand; it’s not what you think.”

Jayceon’s breathing quickened, his frustration palpable. He shrugged off his suit jacket, tossing it onto the sofa with a sense of urgency.

Arabella noticed the fury simmering just beneath Jayceon’s surface, and she stepped closer, attempting to calm him. “Jayceon, it’s not like I stayed out all night with another man, or came home pregnant. Do you really need to be this upset over something so small?”

They stood there, locked in a silent battle of wills, each unwilling to back down.

Jayceon felt a tightening in his chest, a sensation as if he were struggling to breathe.