When She Ended It With Divorce (Chiara and Titus) novel Chapter 63

**TITLE: Silent Roads Remember by Sawyer**
**Chapter 63**

Titus squinted slightly, a playful sparkle dancing in his eyes. “What’s this? Have you already forgotten our little chat?”

Chiara’s brow furrowed, her gaze drawn to his right hand, which lay casually atop a stack of papers. A distinct bite mark marred the webbing between his fingers, and an icy dread washed over her, causing her to freeze in place.

Titus noticed her stare and glanced down at his hand, pinching the mark lightly between his fingers as if to emphasize its existence. “Do you recall what I warned you about last time? If you ever decide to bite me again, I’ll make sure to pull every single one of your teeth out,” he declared, his tone teasing yet laced with an undercurrent of seriousness.

Chiara’s expression morphed into one of alarm, and she instinctively shifted back, a hint of panic flickering in her eyes. “I swear, I don’t remember doing it! I didn’t mean to; I was completely drunk!”

Titus held her gaze, his eyes unwavering, as if he were searching for something deeper. “So, are you already contemplating falling in love?”

Chiara was left utterly bewildered. How could he leap from a threat about her teeth to a question about romance?

‘He just threatened to yank my teeth out, and now he’s asking if I want a relationship? Has he genuinely lost it? I’m still his wife, right?’ she pondered, confusion swirling in her mind.

Titus seemed to catch her inner turmoil in an instant, letting out a short, sardonic laugh. “Looks like your memory is really on vacation,” he quipped.

Chiara felt a wave of embarrassment wash over her, her mind racing as she tried to piece together the fragments of the previous night. ‘Did I embarrass myself after drinking too much? Did I say something ridiculous?’

Meanwhile, Paul had been driving quietly, embodying the perfect chauffeur, yet even he couldn’t resist stealing a glance in the rearview mirror. Observing Chiara’s perplexed expression, he nearly cracked a smile despite his best efforts to remain professional.

It wasn’t until they were just moments away from the office building that Chiara finally broke free from her trance. “Paul, could you pull over, please?” she instructed, her voice steady despite her inner chaos.

“Of course, Mrs. Goodman,” Paul replied, his tone respectful yet light.

As the car came to a halt, Chiara was poised to step out when she felt an urge to look back at Titus. “Um, I really had too much to drink last night. I can hardly remember anything,” she admitted, her voice tinged with uncertainty.

Titus shot her a sideways glance, his silence stretching between them for a few moments. When he didn’t respond, Chiara simply closed the car door and stepped out, watching as the vehicle drove away before she flagged down a passing cab. In a mere five minutes, she found herself standing outside the imposing structure of the Goodman Group.

The office building boasted ten elevators, five on either side, yet the morning rush made them feel claustrophobic. Chiara stood quietly in a corner, waiting for an elevator, lost in thought.

“Chiara!”

She turned at the sound of her name, spotting Queenie approaching with a bright smile. “Good morning!” she greeted, her spirits lifting slightly.

Queenie jogged over, her eyes scrutinizing Chiara as if she were trying to decipher a complex puzzle. “M-Morning,” she stammered.

That moment was all Chiara could recall from the previous night—standing at the restaurant entrance with Queenie. So, she ventured cautiously, “You were the one who took me home last night, right?”

Queenie blinked, surprise evident on her face. “Oh, you don’t remember?”

Chiara felt a wave of embarrassment wash over her. “Honestly, I don’t remember much at all.”

Just as Queenie was about to spill the details of the previous night’s escapades, she noticed Noreen and Lena approaching. Instinctively, she clamped her mouth shut, the moment of revelation slipping away.

The group exchanged pleasantries, and they all crammed into the elevator together. Queenie was practically bursting with the urge to share the juicy details, but she forced herself to remain silent. ‘Ugh, I guess I’ll have to wait until lunch to get the full story,’ Chiara mused, her curiosity piqued.

After printing a few contracts, Chiara made her way to the coffee machine, calling out, “Anyone want some coffee?”

Queenie, buried under a mountain of work, waved her hand dismissively without even looking up. “I’ll take one, thanks!” she replied, her focus still on her tasks.

Turning to Lena, Chiara asked, “Would you like some coffee, too?”

Lena glanced up, taking in Chiara’s latest work outfit, and then quickly averted her gaze. “No, thanks,” she said coolly.

Chiara nodded, ready to head to the break room when Paul walked in, pushing the door open. “Mr. Goodman wants some coffee. Is anyone free to make him a cup?” he inquired, his eyes landing on the two cups already in Chiara’s hands.

Their eyes met for a brief moment, and Paul, who wasn’t accustomed to directing Chiara, appeared slightly awkward.

But Chiara took the initiative. “I can do it. I was just about to make some coffee anyway,” she offered, her tone light.

Paul nodded, relieved. “Alright then.”

Lena, who had been about to rise from her seat, sank back down, a frown creasing her forehead as she watched Chiara.

Ten minutes later, the coffee was brewed to perfection. Chiara was just about to head to Titus’s office when Lena suddenly piped up, “I have a document Mr. Goodman needs to sign. Why don’t I take the coffee in for you?”

Chiara shot her a glance, and Queenie’s earlier warning echoed in her mind. The two women locked eyes, a silent understanding passing between them.

Queenie blinked in disbelief. ‘Is Lena serious right now? That’s Mrs. Goodman—his legal wife!’ she thought, frustration bubbling beneath the surface.

“Lena, the planning department has been asking about one of your files. Why don’t you run that over instead?” Queenie suggested, her tone casual yet firm.

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