When She Ended It With Divorce (Chiara and Titus) novel Chapter 101

**Chapter 101**

Inside the dimly lit bathroom, Chiara pressed her back against the cold tiles, the voices outside echoing in her ears like a haunting melody. Overwhelmed, she sank to the floor, her heart racing as tears streamed down her cheeks, a torrent of fear and despair flooding her senses.

“Titus…” she whispered, her voice barely audible, a fragile plea for salvation.

The man beside her, visibly shaken, turned to her with wide, terrified eyes. “You… You really… are…” he stammered, the words caught in his throat, the gravity of the situation paralyzing him.

Chiara’s gaze remained locked on the bathroom door, her heart pounding as she called out Titus’s name again, desperation lacing her tone. “Titus Goodman!”

Her voice rang out, sharp and urgent, causing the man next to her to jump, his body trembling in response. Outside, the three figures froze, their attention caught by her distress.

Queenie paced nervously just beyond the door, her voice laced with concern. “Chiara, don’t be scared! We’re right here!”

But it was Titus’s expression that sent a chill through the air, his demeanor cold and unyielding. “Get out of the way,” he commanded, his voice a low growl that sent shivers down spines.

Paul, sensing the urgency, quickly grabbed Queenie, pulling her back as Titus readied himself. With a swift movement, he shrugged off his jacket, tucked in his shirt, and aimed a powerful kick at the lock of the door.

The violent impact reverberated through the bathroom, sending the man next to Chiara into a panic. Realizing it was Titus outside, his legs turned to jelly, and he collapsed to the floor, utterly defeated.

‘I’m done for. I’m completely screwed!’ he thought, his mind racing with dread.

Just as he scrambled to apologize, desperate to make amends, the bathroom door flew open with a resounding crash, sending him sprawling to the ground with a cry of pain.

The moment the door burst open, Titus’s eyes landed on Chiara, who was slumped against the wall, her makeup smeared and her hair a wild mess. But it was the sight of her gown, torn and tattered, that ignited a fierce rage within him.

Every drop of blood in Titus’s body felt frozen, his fury bubbling just beneath the surface.

“Titus…” Chiara’s voice, though trembling, broke through his haze of anger.

That single word snapped Titus back to reality. He rushed to her side, crouching down to envelop her in his arms, his heart aching at the sight of her distress.

“It’s okay. I’m here. It’s all over now. Don’t be afraid…” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion, each word a promise of safety.

Chiara trembled in his embrace, tears streaming down her face as if a dam had burst within her.

“Titus…” she called again, her voice a fragile thread.

His throat felt raw, almost painful, as he held her tightly, wishing he could shield her from all the darkness in the world.

“Yeah, I’m right here,” he murmured, his voice a soft balm against her anguish.

Inhaling his familiar scent, Chiara felt the weight of her bottled-up pain and fear crash down on her like a tidal wave. She clung to him desperately, burying her face in his chest, breaking down into heart-wrenching sobs that echoed through the small space.

Chiara had always lived a life cocooned from such horrors. She never imagined that something so terrifying could invade her world, especially after becoming Mrs. Goodman. In her mind, such nightmares were meant to be impossible.

“It was so close… Do you even realize that?” she managed to choke out, her voice quivering with raw emotion.

“Titus, I was this close… Just a second more and he would’ve…” Her voice cracked, her body shaking as she struggled to articulate the terror she had just faced.

Titus cupped her face gently, kissing her lips with a tenderness that disregarded her tear-streaked makeup and the fear that gripped her. He kissed her again and again, each touch a desperate attempt to soothe the storm within her.

His kisses left Chiara breathless, unable to finish her thoughts, her tears flowing freely despite his efforts.

Feeling her warmth against him, Titus began to sense the icy grip of rage thawing, replaced by a fierce protectiveness. He wrapped his jacket around her shoulders, pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head, and shot a glance at the group lingering outside, still hesitant at the doorway.

“Queenie,” he called, his voice firm.

Queenie snapped back to reality, her heart racing. “M… Mr. Goodman?” she stuttered, a mix of fear and concern flooding her.

“Come here and stay with her,” Titus instructed.

But at the sound of his words, Chiara tightened her grip on his tie, panic flashing in her eyes at the thought of him leaving her side.

Queenie hurried in, unsure of what to do, and dropped to her knees beside Chiara, her heart aching for her friend.

“Chiara…” Queenie said softly, her voice a gentle whisper.

But in that moment, all Chiara wanted was to hold onto Titus, to feel his strength and never let go.

Titus lowered his gaze to her, cupping the back of her head as he kissed her deeply once more, pouring all his love and reassurance into that single moment.

Queenie watched, her breath caught in her throat, awestruck by the raw emotion unfolding before her.

Mr. Goodman doesn’t even care about the mess Chiara is in, she thought, feeling a strange mix of admiration and envy.

Her heart raced as if she had stumbled upon a profound secret. ‘Mr. Goodman must be totally in love with Chiara!’ Queenie realized, her mind racing with the implications.

“Noreen, keep the employees back,” Paul instructed, urgency lacing his words.

Noreen snapped back to reality, her face still reflecting disbelief. “Don’t worry, Paul. I’ll handle things out here,” she replied, determination creeping into her voice.

Paul turned back toward the bathroom, his heart racing. He couldn’t risk leaving Titus alone in such a volatile state.

Inside, the man was a wreck, his head bleeding profusely, blood pooling on the floor. Yet he didn’t stop, continuing to bang his head against the ground, pleading for mercy.

“I was wrong, Mr. Goodman! Please, let me go…” he sobbed, his voice quaking with terror.

Titus’s face remained impassive, but his eyes were cold and unyielding, a storm brewing beneath the surface.

“Did she ever beg you to let her go, huh?” Titus’s voice dripped with icy contempt.

The man shook uncontrollably, wishing he could turn back time, back to a moment before everything went wrong.

“M… Mr. Goodman, I swear I had no idea she was Mrs. Goodman! I really didn’t know, Mr. Goodman! Please, have mercy on me! I’ll never do it again, I swear!” he begged, his voice trembling with fear.

Lena, who had been paralyzed with terror, paled at the realization of what the man had just said. Her eyes widened in disbelief.

What is he talking about? Mrs. Goodman? Who is he talking about? Wait, did I hear that right?

Titus scoffed, not bothering to hide his disdain as he crouched before the man, yanking his head up by the hair to force him to meet his gaze.

“So she actually told you who she really is, huh?” Titus’s voice was as frigid as the winter air.

The man’s pupils dilated in horror, realizing he had just dug his own grave deeper. He trembled, knowing he was doomed, his fate sealed.

In that moment, he lost all control, wetting himself in fear.

Queenie felt a wave of disgust wash over her, but she forced herself to keep watching, no matter how sick it made her feel.

Paul stood to the side, silent, his own thoughts swirling. As long as nobody died, he didn’t care what happened next.

When Lena heard Titus confirm that Chiara was indeed Mrs. Goodman, her legs gave way beneath her, and she crumpled to the ground.

How is that possible? No way… How could Chiara be Mrs. Goodman? Her mind raced in chaos, struggling to comprehend the shocking revelation.