When She Ended It With Divorce (Chiara and Titus) novel Chapter 109

**Chapter 109**

Elaine’s eyes sparkled with a fierce determination, a fleeting shadow of doubt crossing her features before her expression blossomed into one of unbridled triumph.

“He’ll only ever love me. I’m the only one he could ever love,” Elaine declared, her voice dripping with certainty, as if she had just unveiled a profound truth.

Sharon, with an enthusiastic nod, chimed in, “Absolutely, Elaine! You’re spot on. Why waste your precious time on a lunatic like Lena? She doesn’t deserve your energy!”

Meanwhile, Paul was acting swiftly behind the scenes. Moments after their conversation concluded, a sharp knock echoed through the hallway of Lena’s apartment, breaking the silence.

Inside, Lena was in no mood to entertain visitors. She had wrapped herself in a cocoon of weariness and frustration, unwilling to face the world outside her door.

However, the voice of the visitor broke through her resolve. “Ms. Granger, this is l’in with property management. I’m here to show the apartment to some interested tenants. Could you please open the door?”

The moment Lena recognized the voice, her heart sank. She shot up, barely steady on her feet, her pulse quickening as she swung the door open, greeted by the sight of three people standing expectantly outside.

“Hi, Ms. Granger! You want to sell quickly, right? I happen to have a young couple eager to see your place,” the agent said, a gleam of opportunism in their eyes.

Lena opened her mouth to protest, to assert that she had never agreed to sell her home, but before she could utter a word, her face drained of color. The agent was already ushering the couple inside, enthusiastically highlighting every nook and cranny of her once-sacred space.

Feeling utterly defeated, Lena sank to the floor, the weight of her circumstances pressing down on her like a heavy shroud. It was painfully clear that this was all part of Paul’s scheme. She felt a wave of despair wash over her; Halinston was no longer a place she could call home.

Meanwhile, in a dimly lit hospital room, Chiara stirred awake in the middle of the night. The soft glow of the lights felt oppressive, and a sense of unease crept over her.

She sat up slowly, her fingers fumbling in the dark as she searched for the light switch, desperate to chase away the shadows.

Before she could reach it, a warm hand enveloped hers, pulling her back into a comforting embrace.

“What are you looking for?” Titus asked, his voice a soothing balm in the stillness of the night.

At the sound of his voice, Chiara paused, feeling the tension in her body ease slightly as she nestled into his side for a few moments before replying in a husky whisper, “I want to turn on the light. It’s way too dark in here.”

Titus’s arm tightened around her for a brief moment before relaxing again, as if he were trying to shield her from the darkness.

“I’ll take care of it,” he said with a gentle assurance.

In an instant, the hospital lights flickered to life, illuminating the room and forcing Chiara to squint against the sudden brightness.

As her eyes adjusted, the reality of her surroundings hit her like a wave. She was back in the hospital, a place she had hoped to escape.

Titus stood by the bed, his gaze fixed on her as he sensed her disorientation. He stepped closer, taking her hand in his, his voice low and filled with concern, “Is there anything you want to ask?”

A shadow flickered across Chiara’s face as the memories of her recent ordeal flooded back, draining her of color.

Noticing the shift in her demeanor, Titus squeezed her hand gently, offering comfort. “That man was an employee from the Goodman Group. But you don’t have to worry about him anymore,” he reassured her.

Chiara’s mind raced as she connected the dots. She had a sinking feeling about who he was; after all, only someone associated with the Goodman Group could have attended the anniversary party.

But as she recalled the helplessness that had engulfed her, she looked up at Titus, her voice trembling with confusion. “Why did I feel like that?”

Titus pressed a soft kiss to her fingers, his expression serious. “They found traces of a drug in your blood. It likely came from that glass of champagne you drank.”

Chiara froze, her heart racing as she tried to piece the events together. “Was it the second glass?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Yeah,” Titus confirmed, his tone grave.

The first glass had been handed to her by Queenie, leaving no room for foul play. It had to be the second one—someone had deliberately drugged it, placing it within her reach.

She felt a cold shiver run down her spine, her suspicions already forming about who was responsible, but the timing eluded her.

Titus seemed to sense her turmoil, patiently unraveling the truth for her. “When the lights went out in the hall for those few seconds, everyone was distracted by the stage. It’s no wonder you didn’t notice anything.”

Chiara pressed her lips together, a wave of silence hanging between them.

“It was Lena who drugged you. I’ve already let her go and sent her packing from Halinston. You won’t have to see her again,” Titus said, his voice steady and reassuring.

He brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear, his touch gentle. “If you’re still upset about this, I can…”

But Chiara shook her head vehemently. “No, I don’t want to talk about it ever again.”

Titus watched her for a long while, his heart heavy with concern, before leaning down to place a soft kiss between her brows.

Yves had assured him that as long as Chiara regained consciousness, there would be no major issues, and she could be discharged soon.

Just then, Paul entered the room. He set down some items on the coffee table without daring to meet anyone’s gaze and quietly slipped back out.

Titus rose, slipped into his clothes, and then carefully picked up Chiara’s dress, approaching the bed with a tenderness that spoke volumes.

With gentle, meticulous movements, he dressed her, taking every precaution not to disturb her slumber.

Every time he shifted, he cast a glance at Chiara, watching for any sign that she was waking. Only when he was certain she remained asleep did he continue.

Outside, Paul waited in the hallway. As soon as he sensed movement from within, he straightened and peeked in, curious about the unfolding scene.

Chiara’s upper body was covered by Titus’s suit jacket, leaving only the top of her head and the dark cascade of her hair visible.

Later, a nurse and a cleaning lady entered to attend to the room. But upon stepping into the bathroom, they halted in their tracks, stunned by the sight before them.

The space resembled a disaster zone, the air thick with a mix of lingering steam and something far more unsettling. The smell was overpowering, almost suffocating.

The cleaning lady’s face turned beet red as she hurried to crack open the bathroom window, her embarrassment palpable.

“Kids these days, honestly. No shame, doing whatever they want, wherever they want. This is a hospital, you know…” she murmured, shaking her head in disbelief.

Even the young nurse felt her cheeks flush. Anyone who had ever been in a relationship could decipher the events that had transpired within those walls.

Meanwhile, Paul glanced in the rearview mirror as he drove, lowering his voice. “Francis and Lena have been dealt with. By tomorrow, they’ll be out of Halinston…”

He let his sentence hang in the air, and only then did Titus look up, his expression dark and unreadable.

Paul quickly averted his gaze, realizing the weight of his words. He had merely hinted at the outcome, a promise made to Queenie lingering in the back of his mind.

“I just discovered that my wife knows how to wrap everyone around her finger. You all are so loyal to her,” Titus remarked, a mix of admiration and frustration in his tone.