Your Uncle’s My Husband Now Back Off, Ex! novel Chapter 112

**Through Unseen Doors We Step Into Untold Worlds Beyond by Sage Hunter Lane 112**

Clark’s lips curled into a smirk, his tone chillingly devoid of warmth. “How utterly pathetic. He must harbor a deep-seated loathing for the one who shattered his family and left him in ruins.”

Michael felt a shiver run down his spine at the frigid edge in Clark’s voice. It was as if the air around them had thickened with an unspoken tension.

“Mr. Sumner, should we consider getting him out?” Michael inquired cautiously, his heart racing at the thought of what Clark might demand next.

“Absolutely. I want him to be out within three days,” Clark replied, his words clipped and final.

Michael hesitated, a storm of conflicting emotions swirling within him. He yearned to voice his concerns, to steer Clark away from this course of action, but he knew better than to speak up. It would be an exercise in futility, a battle he was unlikely to win.

With a heavy sigh, he ended the call, the weight of the conversation lingering in his mind. The thought of seeking a new job crossed his mind, but the reality of Clark’s current demands loomed ominously. If anyone were to discover their clandestine dealings, the fallout could be catastrophic.

Meanwhile, Nyla remained cocooned in her room, avoiding the outside world until dinner time.

After a meal filled with silence, she hastily retreated upstairs, eager to escape the oppressive atmosphere that hung in the air.

Clark observed her departure, his expression dark and foreboding, as if he were a storm cloud gathering strength.

As Patricia cleared the table, she glanced at Clark and remarked, “Mr. Sumner, you know, silent treatments can be quite damaging. Women need comfort and understanding.”

Clark’s brow furrowed, irritation flickering in his eyes. “I’m aware,” he replied tersely.

It wasn’t that he lacked the desire to comfort Nyla; rather, she had erected impenetrable walls around herself, leaving him bewildered. He found himself grappling with the events of that day, still trying to piece together the puzzle of what had transpired. Even if he wished to offer her solace, he was at a loss for how to approach her.

Noting the grim set of Clark’s jaw, Patricia realized he was lost in thought, and with a resigned sigh, she retreated to the kitchen.

Back in the solitude of his study, Clark struggled to focus on the documents before him. His mind wandered, fixating on the image of Nyla’s bruised face and the bandage wrapped around her hand. A pang of guilt twisted in his gut. He picked up the phone and called for Patricia, instructing her to fetch some antiseptic ointment for Nyla.

Patricia smiled gently. “Mr. Sumner, it would be far more meaningful if you were to deliver it to her yourself.”

Unbeknownst to her, Damon, who had been on the line, heard their exchange, and his expression darkened with concern.

“I know you don’t like him, but he’s a better man than I am. I was terrified you’d start developing feelings for him,” Clark confessed, vulnerability creeping into his voice.

Nyla fell silent, her heart racing. It was true; she harbored feelings for Damon, but admitting that truth felt impossible.

Looking down to mask her sadness, she replied softly, “If you’re so paranoid, why not just put a monitor on me? That way, you could track exactly who I meet and what I say.”

Clark reached out, taking her hand gently. “I realize I was wrong. I promise I won’t doubt you or Uncle Damon again, okay?”

Nyla smirked, a bitter taste in her mouth. Did he even believe his own words? If given another chance, he would undoubtedly question her loyalty once more.

Yet, she didn’t want to prolong the argument, so she said firmly, “If there’s nothing else, please go. I need to rest.”

Clark remained rooted in place, his gaze locked onto her, and asked slowly, “Nyla, you’ll never fall in love with Uncle Damon, right?”