The End of a Marriage (Colette and Matheo) novel Chapter 237

“Ah, the man himself, Graham Lancaster,” came the smooth, overly

familiar voice. Graham’s gaze shot to the intruder, his eyes narrowing. Standing in front of them with that infuriating, slimy smile was none other than Marco Bianchi–the two–timing, scheming lawyer who Graham despised more than anyone.

Marco was the kind of man who thrived on causing trouble, and

Graham knew exactly how dirty he played. The memory of their past

legal battles lingered in Graham’s mind. The first one had been

ridiculous, some petition from a lunatic about a “tree lady” who was

convinced that Graham’s construction work was responsible for an

iceberg melting. The second one had been just as vile, and yet Marco

had always slithered his way out of trouble with his smooth words

and slimy tactics.

But Graham was going to play it cool. His disgust didn’t show on his

face as Marco extended his hand, a gesture that made Graham’s skin

crawl. Still, he took it, shaking with forced politeness. He was barely able to keep the sneer from his lips.

“And who is this lovely lady with you? New lady love?” Marco asked,

his smile slinking even wider as he glanced at Isla, his eyes narrowing with a mixture of curiosity and predatory interest.

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Graham felt the urge to smack him, but he bit it back. Instead, he

leaned in, his voice casual as ever, though a touch of venom slipped

1. in. “My fiancée, actually.”

Isla’s face, which had been animated with curiosity just moments ago,

suddenly flushed a deep crimson. She looked at Graham like he’d just

asked her to do something outrageous–her eyes wide with disbelief,

her cheeks burning. He knew her well enough to see her discomfort,

but damn, did he love pushing her boundaries like this. She was

always so reserved, so painfully shy, especially around people she

didn’t know well. And here he was, pushing her to confront the world

in ways that would make her squirm.

Marco raised an eyebrow at this new tidbit of information, his gaze suddenly intensifying as it lingered on Isla, scrutinizing her with unsettling focus. “Really?” he asked, voice thick with a condescending interest. “This is going to be interesting then.”

Graham’s smile remained, though it was cold, predatory. He didn’t trust this snake for a second, especially when Marco’s eyes lingered

on Isla in that unsettling way. But before he could respond, Marco’s smile morphed into something almost sinister as he casually threw

out the next comment.

“Have you heard from Vanessa lately?”

The mention of Vanessa sent a sudden, sharp pang through Graham’s

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chest, but it was Isla who reacted. Her face, which had been flushed

with embarrassment just a moment ago, turned pale as a ghost. Her

gaze shifted towards the window, as though she wished she could

melt into the glass and escape. Graham felt an immediate rush of

anger, a deep protective instinct flaring up for her. Marco’s tone had

been a deliberate jab, a reminder of something painful. He could see

the effect it had on Isla, the way it made her retreat further into

herself.

Graham’s patience snapped. “Do you mind, Marco? We were in the

middle of ordering lunch,” he said, his voice low and cold, the kind of

tone that told Marco his presence was no longer welcome.

Marco didn’t even flinch at the blatant dismissal. Instead, he flashed

one last smirk at them, his voice still carrying a mock–sweetness as

he hummed a tune under his breath, making his way back to his table.

The air in the room felt suffocating, thick with the tension that

Graham could barely breathe through. His eyes stayed locked on Isla,

who sat across from him, her posture rigid, her expression distant-

completely unreadable. It was as if the more he tried to reach her, the

further she slipped away, Her silence felt like a physical barrier, one

that made him feel every inch of the distance between them, even

though they were sitting so close.

The flicker in her eyes, the one he couldn’t decipher, tore at him. Was

it anger? Hurt? Jealousy? Every possible emotion seemed to pulse in

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the air, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t grasp hold of it.

And it burned in him. The uncertainty, the frustration–it made him

want to lash out, to shake her, to scream until it all made sense.

He exhaled sharply, unable to stop himself from speaking. “Isla,” he

muttered, his voice laced with the bitterness rising in his chest.

“About Vanessa…”

His hand reached out, desperate for any form of connection, but

before he could even make contact, she jerked her fingers away like

he was poison. Her eyes flashed with something cold, hard, and the

sting of it hit him square in the gut. That was it. That was the

moment. He wasn’t just being ignored–he was being shut out. And it

fucking hurt.

Her voice broke the silence like a blade slicing through the air. “Don’t

ever call me your fiancée again,” she said, her words cold and

deliberate, each one packing a punch that hit him straight in the

chest. “I am not your fiancée, and I never will be.”

The weight of her words slammed into him, knocking the air from his

lungs. His heart was pounding so loudly in his chest, he almost

couldn’t hear her anymore. The realization hit him hard–this wasn’t

just a misunderstanding, wasn’t just a simple argument. This was the

truth, raw and ugly. She was jealous. She was hurt. She wasn’t just

angry at Vanessa–she was angry at him. And that made everything

feel like it was falling apart.

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As the clock ticked down, Graham struggled to keep his thoughts

from spiraling. He stood to pull on his suit jacket, the fabric suddenly

feeling heavier than it should. His fingers fumbled with the tie,

pulling it too tight, the knot slipping out of his control. His

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