Second Chance His Unending Love (Calista Hartwell) novel Chapter 42

Chapter 42

“Calista, there’s no need for the sarcasm or the attempts to shirk responsibility. You are still my wife, technically. You must show your face today. Otherwise, where does that leave the Frost family’s reputation?” he growled.

“You can always take your little lover instead. She’s young and beautiful. She’d be much better at saving face for you,” Calista retorted coolly.

Killian said, his patience wearing thin, “Calista, I’m not asking for your opinion.

“As usual, we’re picking up the relatives from back home and putting them up at the villa for a few days. I want you to take good care of them, show them around New York. Put all the

expenses on my account.”

Calista was so exasperated she even let out a bitter laugh.

Born into poverty, Killian still had many relatives back home struggling to make ends meet.

She’d never looked down on these so-called “poor relatives,” yet they had a knack for calling her at all hours, demanding her time and attention.

one week, it was an elderly relative needing help booking’a 11:11

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doctor’s appointment in New York.

Next, a cousin’s child who’d gotten into a local university and needed a place to stay.

Sometimes, entire families would descend on the city for vacation, expecting her to play full-time tour guide.

Every year, Calista dealt with several such groups—and every time, Killian ordered her to drop everything to attend to them.

Each visit felt like a grueling ordeal that left her drained, and more often than not, her efforts were met with little more than indifference.

Calista smiled bitterly at her own naivety.

When she was younger, she’d thought Killian was upright and loyal, filial and sensible, always looking out for his siblings.

She’d believed he was a man of exceptional character-marrying someone like him, she’d thought, guaranteed a decent life.

But as the years wore on, Calista had come to realize: a man who sacrificed his own small family to appease his extended one was no man to rely on.

She’d built his reputation as a virtuous son and brother, while he’d reduced her to little more than a glorified nanny and maid.1

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Enough was enough. A person had to know when to stop being a doormat-when to flip the table-to truly live.

She enunciated each word slowly, clearly, with unshakable resolve, “We are divorced.”

Killian was unfazed, his tone cold and dismissive. “I didn’t tell them about the divorce. You don’t need to worry about that.”

If he’d been standing in front of her, Calista would have been tempted to pry open his skull and see what nonsense filled it.

He’d cut off her financial support, orchestrated a silent ban on her job applications, and now he expected her to play the dutiful wife and hostess for his relatives?

“I don’t care what you say. I quit! I’m not waiting on anyone anymore. Now get out of my life!” she snarled, her patience completely frayed.

With that, she slammed the phone down.

One last thing. Calista compiled a detailed document listing every one of the Frost family’s utility accounts-water,

electricity, gas, internet, property management, insurance, and more-then sent it to Killian.

[Don’t bother me again.]

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Killian opened the file. The information was meticulously recorded, spanning five full pages.

He suddenly realized how complicated these mundane tasks were-far more so than running a multimillion-dollar company.

He let out a cold chuckle. He’d been doing her a favor by letting her attend the wedding as Mrs. Frost.

How dare she refuse?

This was an important event; if Calista didn’t show up, the other relatives would mock them.

Killian picked up the phone and called his secretary, Edward Fergsen.

“Find Calista’s car. Check where it’s parked. No matter where she is or what she’s doing, get her to the wedding venue-by any means necessary.”

Edward acted quickly, but called back a short while later, his voice hesitant.

“Mr. Frost, Mrs. Frost’s car is in the Kingston Hotel garage. We can’t get in…”

A very important person was staying at the Kingston Hotel, and 4/7

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security had been tightened to the highest level-unauthorized personnel and vehicles were strictly prohibited.

The fact that Calista’s car was parked there meant she was staying at the hotel.

A vein throbbed on Killian’s forehead.

Calista had really gone too far. Didn’t she realize what kind of place the Kingston Hotel was?

Hiding there to avoid him was one thing, but if she accidentally offended the VIP and caused trouble, she’d be in way over her

head.

As Killian rubbed his temples, frustration gnawing at him,

Nicole burst into the office unannounced.

“Mr. Frost, what’s this Kingston Hotel Edward was talking about? Did you call your ex-wife again?”

Killian had no patience for her antics. “If you have nothing better to do, go clean my office.”

“Mr. Frost! That’s the cleaning lady’s job! Why would you make me do that?”

She pouted, then scurried over to massage his temples gently.

Edward said you have a wedding to go to today. Is Calista 11:11

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refusing to come?”

Killian closed his eyes and said nothing, his silence confirming her suspicion.

“She really is something. So disrespectful. If I had a husband as wonderful as you, I’d do anything you asked without hesitation,” Nicole huffed, her tone laced with disdain.

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