The Wife He Dumped, The Queen She Returned As novel Chapter 219

When Chloe opened her eyes the next morning, she found herself tucked into a warm, incredibly soft bed.

She blinked in confusion.

It took her a few seconds to piece the fragments of last night together. She remembered sitting under the veranda, watching the plum blossoms in the snow, and drinking a little bit of wine. And then...

Suddenly, a voice sliced through the quiet room.

"Chloe, since when did you start drowning your sorrows in alcohol?"

Chloe jolted upright, finally realizing there was a figure standing perfectly still in the shadows of the expansive room.

Preston turned away from the floor-to-ceiling windows, a dark, complicated mockery swimming in his eyes.

"I thought you were hell-bent on a divorce. What are you doing sleeping at Cloudrest Manor?"

Chloe completely ignored him. She threw off the covers and got out of bed.

Preston's dark gaze followed her movements. "You'd better try to go a full twenty-four hours without speaking to me."

A second later, Chloe turned and glared at him.

"Where are my clothes?"

Preston smirked. "I thought you'd last at least half a day."

Chloe was far too exhausted to play his games. She walked to the door and called out to a passing maid.

"Could you grab me a fresh set of clothes, please?"

The maid flinched, instinctively shooting a terrified glance at Preston before dropping her head.

"I'm so sorry, Mrs. Hayes, but there are no spare clothes in the manor..."

It was a painfully obvious lie.

But Chloe had no intention of making the poor girl's life miserable.

Once the maid scurried away, Chloe suppressed her simmering rage and glared at Preston again. "Are you having fun?"

"Two minutes in, and that's your second sentence," Preston noted smoothly.

He stepped forward, shrugged off his tailored suit jacket, and instinctively reached out to drape it over her shoulders. But halfway there, something seemed to cross his mind. His hand froze, and instead, he tossed the expensive jacket carelessly onto the sofa before turning toward the door.

"Come downstairs. I'll have Ken drive you back."

...

Percival Hayes, the patriarch of the family, snorted as if he had just heard the most ridiculous joke of the century.

"Compete?"

He let out a harsh, demeaning laugh. "'Compete' implies she ever stood a chance. It's a shame she miscalculated. If there is one thing Dr. Sharpe despises more than anything, it's people trying to use connections to get a free ride."

Eleonora's face went rigid with fury. "That is enough!"

She shot an incredibly worried look at Chloe, then slapped Preston hard on the arm.

"How could you let this happen?"

Preston's expression remained perfectly blank. "Grandma, it was Dr. Sharpe's personal choice. I have no right to interfere."

Percival's eyes gleamed with absolute disdain. "Dr. Sharpe isn't an idiot. Do you think she'd just let you shove some talentless hack into her lab?"

He didn't bother finishing the insult, instead turning his attention back to Jenna.

"Jenna, this is phenomenal news! We have to throw a massive celebration party for you! We'll invite all the right people, set you up with the best network for your future."

"Thank you, Mr. Hayes. But really, there's no need to make such a fuss over little old me."