The Ex-Wife He Can’t Have novel Chapter 80

The moment the words left Jillian's mouth, the atmosphere in the study became agonizingly oppressive, heavy enough to crush the breath from a person's lungs.

The old Jillian would have never dared to speak to Killian like this, let alone aggressively shove a family crisis onto his lap.

She would have gladly swallowed all the humiliation and absorbed the crossfire from his family just to protect his peace.

But the new Jillian had zero interest in playing the martyr.

No matter how much she bled for him, Killian was entirely blind to it. To him, her suffering was just pathetic groveling, entirely self-inflicted.

"If it is Grandmother's command, then you stay. But do not mistake that for my desire. Understood?"

Jillian let out a hollow, bitter laugh.

Of course she understood.

Killian would rather burn the house down than have her live in it.

"Don't worry," Jillian said smoothly, making her stance explicitly clear. "I may be sleeping here, but when the time comes to finalize the divorce, I will fully cooperate."

She wouldn't use moving back in as a pathetic ploy to salvage their marriage.

That way, Killian could sleep easy.

It was an undeniable fact that he and Sylvia were destined to be together, and Jillian refused to humiliate herself any further.

Killian snatched another file from his desk. "Get out."

Jillian spun on her heel and headed for the door.

"The old woman may have forced you to stay, but I expect you to make yourself scarce. Keep out of my sight."

Jillian took a slow, shuddering breath. "I will."

The heavy oak door clicked shut behind her. She slumped against the cold hallway wall, gasping for air as if she had been drowning.

He still loathed her with every fiber of his being.

It was obvious that the moment he finished wrapping up the Langley Tech project, he was going to serve her the divorce papers.

That was exactly why everyone heralded him as an absolute prodigy.

"Mommy, Daddy said I'm officially starting my lessons with Mr. Xavier this weekend. I'm going to be a master painter soon."

A suffocating weight settled on Jillian's chest.

Since Judith's disastrous divorce from Silas Xavier, Jillian hadn't heard a single whisper of the man's existence. How on earth had he suddenly rebranded himself as a universally revered maestro after over a decade of obscurity?

She vividly remembered her mother's agonizing rants. Silas couldn't even sell one painting out of a hundred. He had barely scraped through a second-rate art college and was utterly unremarkable, yet he possessed a delusional God complex, fully convinced he was a tortured visionary.

His only true talent was his devastatingly handsome face.

Judith had been mesmerized by his striking looks and manufactured artistic soul. She had thrown herself into the flames for him, sacrificing everything, only to be left with absolute ruins.

"Then I suppose you'll go," Jillian replied softly. The thought of Connor studying under Silas made her skin crawl, but she had absolutely zero authority to stop it.

"You're coming with me, Mommy. We're going to Mr. Xavier's house. And if we run into Sylvia, you can't act like a crazy person again."

Jillian's hand, which had been gently stroking Connor's hair, froze completely still.