Returning with Triple Treasures: My CEO Husband Is Obsessed novel Chapter 6

"Get out."

Xavier's command sliced through the stunned silence before anyone could process the situation.

Once the room had cleared, Isabella allowed the polite mask to slip from her face.

"Xavier. Why isn't the divorce finalized?"

The man picked up the shareholder document she had placed on his desk, his eyes scanning the contents with a cold, calculating intensity that made the air feel several degrees colder.

When he had married her all those years ago, she had insisted on a clause—a safeguard, she'd called it. Five percent of Moore Group's shares, transferred to her name, to be held in trust, making a swift divorce prohibitively costly for him.

After her "death", he hadn't bothered to untangle the legal web surrounding those shares. The thought of her using them as a weapon now... It was an oversight that tasted like ash.

"I thought you didn't know me," he said, his voice deceptively smooth. "Did your memory make a sudden comeback?"

He looked up and flung the document toward her. Out of pure, ingrained habit, Isabella's hand twitched forward to catch it.

Damn it. The ghost of three years as his executive assistant—always anticipating his needs, his motions—still lived in her muscles. She forced her hand to stay at her side.

Isabella took a steadying breath. "What do you want?"

"That's my question for you," Xavier replied, his tone unnervingly calm as he finally leaned back in his chair, appraising her. "You were so desperate to fake your death and run. Why the hurry to come crawling back now? Did the man who knocked you up run out of funding?"

A cold tremor ran through Isabella. With that detached, almost clinical tone, he had just ripped open the most painful scar of her life.

She clamped down on the surge of emotion, forcing a tight, cold smile. "So, Mr. Moore, is this what this is? A pathetic attempt to hold on? Sorry, but I don't do leftovers. Finalize the divorce, and I might consider transferring the shares back."

"You acquire a minor stake through a legal loophole and suddenly think you're in a position to dictate terms?" Xavier's laugh was a short, derisive sound. He stood, closing the distance between them, his height and presence instantly dominating the space. "You haven't changed."

"Haven't I?" Isabella held her ground, tilting her chin up. "From what I recall, you lose sleep over a fraction of a percent of Moore Group falling into outside hands. Five percent should keep you up for months."

Xavier stared at her, his gaze so intense it made her scalp prickle. Finally, he scoffed. "You're not an 'outside hand'. You're my legal wife. And I invested three years training you. I don't like to see my investments go to waste. Be at your old desk by nine tomorrow. Don't be late."

"You..." The swear word burned on Isabella's tongue.

She took another deep breath, attempting a more conciliatory tone. "Xavier. We clearly despise each other. Wouldn't it be cleaner for everyone if we just... disappeared from each other's lives?"

A dangerous glint flashed in Xavier's eyes. He was silent for a long moment. Then, without a word, he reached into his desk drawer and pulled out a small, black velvet box.

He flipped it open. Nestled inside was a solitaire diamond ring, breathtakingly large and flawlessly cut, clearly custom-made.

Isabella's breath hitched. When they had married, Xavier had simply slid a black credit card across the table to her and told her to buy something appropriate. She had seen it for the hollow gesture it was and had never bothered.

While she was momentarily transfixed by the ring's cold fire, Xavier grabbed her left hand. Before she could resist, he slid the band onto her ring finger.

"What are you doing? Take it off!" Isabella struggled, but his grip was unyielding.

He ignored her protests, his actions methodical and possessed of a strange, obsessive finality.

"A perfect fit."

Isabella yanked her hand back, her fingers immediately going to the band to pry it off.

"Remove it," Xavier said, his voice dropping to a deadly calm, "and you will never get a divorce from me. Not in this lifetime."