Shadows Gathered Under Fading Lights by Nyx Rowan novel Chapter 40

Chapter 11

After searching every corner of the estate, Mr. Chambers called out quietly,

“Mr. Foster, there’s no sign Mrs. Foster ever came back. Could it be… she left home for good?”

“Find her.”

Charles’s throat tightened.

“Track her down–every detail. I don’t believe she’d just walk away like that.”

Mr. Chambers nodded and turned to make a call outside the villa–only to be stopped at the doorway by

Diana Schuyler, who forced him to retreat step by step.

He looked puzzled.

“Miss Schuyler…”

“No need to investigate anymore.”

Diana folded her arms, a triumphant smirk playing on her lips.

“Vivian really has left. To be precise–she’s gone for good and won’t ever come back.”

In the soft blue–gray haze of afternoon light, Charles‘ expression darkened.

“Diana, watch your words. Vivian is still my wife.”

Diana scoffed, her face painted with satisfaction and arrogance.

She slammed a divorce certificate onto the table.

“I’m just stating the facts.”

“Congratulations. You’re finally shaken off that wretched maid. Happy divorce.”

The dark red divorce certificate lay silently on the table.

A breeze drifted in through the window, flipping its pages.

The photo inside–it was one Vivian had snapped months ago, while practicing with her new camera.

She’d saved it in her favorites folder, saying he looked so outrageously handsome, she had to keep it to herself.

Yet now, that photo had become evidence of their divorce.

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“Charles? What are you thinking about?”

Diana waved a hand in front of his eyes, bracelets clinking noisily.

“I checked the certificate. The seal and serial code are real. Vivian must’ve finally realized she didn’t deserve

the title of ‘Mrs. Foster‘ and slipped away in shame!

Ugh–this is the best news I’ve heard in ages!

Tonight… shouldn’t we celebrate?”

She wrapped her arms around his neck, tracing lazy circles on his chest with one manicured finger.

Her voice turned sultry.

“All those years apart… I missed you so much.”

Charles instinctively stood and stepped back, putting distance between them.

His mind was in chaos, his voice hoarse.

“Diana, don’t… I–I still have a wife.”

Diana stared at him in disbelief.

“But you’re divorced!”

“You married that maid just to get back at me, didn’t you? Out of jealousy, because I married Jonathan. You

never even loved her!”

“Now that she’s gone, and I’m divorced too, why can’t we start over?”

“Evan’s still sick–he needs both his parents by his side!”

Charles stared blankly at her seductive red lips, moving nonstop–so loud, so grating.

His mind kept replaying images of Vivian.

When he’d drunkenly snapped, “Someone like me doesn’t deserve a maid–just leave.”

She’d looked him straight in the eye and said, “A rough patch doesn’t define you. Mr. Foster, don’t sell yourself

short.”

Their wedding night–he’d only kissed the corner of her lips, and she’d flushed bright red.

She couldn’t even say I love you out loud–so he’d pretended to sleep, just to hear her whisper near his lashes and nose,

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“Baby… I love you so much.”

Six years of marriage had wrapped itself into every part of his life.

He’d gotten used to her presence–gentle and steady.

Now, the thought of never seeing that woman again… sent a wave of panic surging through him.

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