When She Ended It With Divorce (Chiara and Titus) novel Chapter 32

Chapter 32

Beneath the heavy weight of Titus’s unspoken threats, Chiara found herself reluctantly agreeing to return with him. Though her displeasure was evident in every glance and stiff movement, Titus seemed content with the outcome, as if the silent power play had been won.

Paul, standing nearby, could feel the unresolved tension simmering between them like a barely contained storm. He understood that this fragile truce was only temporary, though Titus remained oblivious to the tempest quietly gathering beneath the surface.

“If I come back with you, will you keep supporting my family’s company?” Chiara asked cautiously, her voice steady despite the turmoil inside.

Titus met her gaze with a cold certainty. “As long as you’re my wife, your family’s interests will be protected,” he replied firmly.

The unspoken message hung in the air—the security of the Lynch Group depended entirely on her remaining in this marriage. Chiara’s eyes drifted to the window, where the fading light cast long shadows across the room. Her mind wrestled with conflicting emotions. Every fiber of her being urged her to refuse, to break free, but the thought of abandoning the family business Heather had fought so fiercely to preserve was unbearable.

“I’ll go with you,” she said at last, “but on one condition.”

Titus raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “I’m listening.”

She held his gaze without flinching. “Being Mrs. Goodman won’t define me anymore. I am still Chiara, and I need to help my sister at the family company.”

When they had married, Titus had only asked that she be the perfect society wife, a symbol of status and grace. Now, the very idea of his wife working openly alongside Heather gave him pause.

“The family business is my responsibility too,” she insisted, voice firm. “Heather needs me there.”

Titus took her hand gently, his thumb tracing slow circles over her slender fingers. “You have me. Isn’t that enough? What my company provides to the Lynch Group each year keeps it well supported.”

Though his words sounded reasonable, Chiara detected the subtle warning beneath them—his generosity toward her family began and ended with her role as his wife.

“So, do you agree or not?” she pressed, searching his face.

He studied her determined expression for a long moment. “I’ll agree, but on one condition as well.”

Relief softened her features. “Go ahead.”

“I never want anything like what happened that day to happen again,” Titus said, his voice low and serious.

Chiara’s eyes flickered away, memories of that painful ordeal flooding back. “I’ll do everything I can to prevent it.”

Titus’s grip on her hand tightened, his expression stern. “Not ‘what you can.’ It has to be guaranteed.”

She bit her lip, swallowing hard. “Understood.”

Later, as Titus and Chiara returned home together, Lindsay let out a quiet breath of relief. The household had been tense for weeks; each day felt like walking through a minefield of unspoken fears and fragile alliances.

“Welcome home,” Lindsay greeted them warmly. “Have you eaten? Should I prepare something for you?”

Titus glanced at Chiara. “What would you like?”

The moment they stepped inside, Chiara slipped her hand free and quietly put on her house shoes. “Something easy,” she murmured.

“I’ll make something simple, then,” Lindsay offered with a gentle smile.

Chiara nodded faintly and disappeared up the stairs without another word, leaving Titus standing in the entryway, hands shoved into his pockets. His eyes narrowed as he watched her retreat, a nagging unease settling in his chest.

“Prepare dinner for Mr. and Mrs. Goodman,” Lindsay instructed the kitchen staff.

“Right away,” came the prompt reply.

Titus turned to Lindsay, a hint of impatience in his voice. “Is this how meals are usually prepared?”

Lindsay smiled knowingly. “Mrs. Goodman never complains about the food. She’s content with whatever we serve, so we keep things simple.”

Titus’s jaw tightened. “When I hired you, I expected proper meals, not just simple dishes.”

She paused, recognizing the dissatisfaction in his tone. “Mr. Goodman, after three years, we know her tastes perfectly. Even though Mrs. Goodman says she’s fine with anything, we always prepare meals she truly enjoys.”

Closing the distance between them, Titus took the clothes from her hands and tossed them onto the sofa. “We’re still legally married. There’s nothing inappropriate about it.”

He turned her gently until her back was against his chest, their eyes drawn to the wedding portrait hanging on the wall before them.

They stood in the same embrace captured in that photograph, but the joyful light that once radiated from her face was gone.

A memory flickered through Chiara’s mind—how she had spent three hours preparing for that shoot, while Titus had given only ten minutes before walking away.

She turned her face away, hands working to loosen his hold.

“You know what they say,” he murmured softly near her ear.

“What?” she asked warily.

“That couples who argue at night always make up by morning. Should we see if it’s true?”

Chiara pulled away abruptly, creating space between them. “I agreed to come back, but not to… anything more,” she said firmly, eyes guarded.

Titus’s expression darkened further as he recognized her determination to sleep apart. “Is this some kind of game? Playing hard to get?”

“No, it’s not,” she replied immediately.

His face hardened even more. “Let me be clear—I brought you back to be my wife. Don’t try to be clever with me.”

Chiara’s face tightened as she looked away, understanding all too well what he was implying. She couldn’t enjoy the benefits of their marriage and then act aloof.

After a tense silence, she finally gave in, picking up the clothes from the sofa and returning them to the closet.

She had only been testing him, hoping he might agree to her moving out.

But since he refused, she had no choice but to accept it. As long as they remained married, he had every right to make demands, and she had no grounds to refuse.