My Husband Wanted Me To Cheat And I Went To The Don. Chapter 10
It was three days before Charles tracked down Silvia’s address.
He waited outside the estate for an entire afternoon before he finally saw her step out of a black car.
“Silvia.”
He walked toward her.
Silvia glanced at him, then simply stood there, waiting for him to approach.
Before coming, Charles had rehearsed a hundred things to say.
Beg her forgiveness. Explain the misunderstanding from years ago. Tell her he knew about the eight million now. Tell her he regretted everything.
Tell her that all those years of bastard behavior were only because he’d believed she’d betrayed him—that he’d been punishing her in the most childish way imaginable.
But now that he was actually standing in front of her, he couldn’t get a single word out.
Because the way she looked at him was wrong.
It wasn’t hatred, exactly. But there was absolutely no desire to be close again.
“The eight million,” he said, his voice hoarse. “I know now.”
“I should have trusted that you had a reason—that you had no choice…”
Silvia said nothing.
“I didn’t know it was ransom money. I didn’t know it was my father…”
His voice began to shake.
“Silvia, I’m sorry. When I found out about your father, I—I was devastated. I regret everything.”
“I regret using that as an excuse to punish you. I regret bringing those women home to hurt you. I regret not being there when you needed me most.”
Silvia looked at him as though she’d heard a joke that wasn’t particularly funny.
“You regret it? Charles, were you really punishing me—or were you using punishment as an excuse to indulge yourself?”
Charles opened his mouth but couldn’t argue.
“If you’d truly just wanted to hurt me, once would have been enough. But in three years, how many did you bring home? Can you even count?”
“I…”
“You just needed an excuse.”
Silvia cut him off.
“An excuse to feel justified.”
“‘She wronged me first, so none of this is out of line.'”
“You piled every ounce of blame onto me, and then you could enjoy those girls’ adoration and flattery with a clear conscience.”
“Charles, that wasn’t revenge. That was self-indulgence.”
Charles stood there, eyes rimming red.
“I never slept with any of them. I swear. The only time I was set up was Nancy. That child—I can make her get rid of it.”
Silvia shook her head.
“Whether that child is yours or hers has nothing to do with me. We’re divorced, Charles. What happens between you and her is your business.”
“Silvia—”
Charles’s tears fell.
He reached for her hand. “Didn’t we agree? It was a fake divorce—”
“Charles.” Her voice went cold. “I never once said it was fake.”
He froze.
From behind him came a shrill scream.
“You bitch!”
Nancy had charged out from God knows where.
“Why would you do this?!”
She lunged forward, but Charles caught her first.
She struggled against him, shrieking at Silvia:
“You already divorced him! Why are you making him get rid of my baby? That’s my child!”
Silvia looked at her and frowned slightly. “This has nothing to do with me.”
“How can it have nothing to do with you?!” Nancy’s face was a mess of tears and snot.
“You put him up to it—that’s why he wants to abort my baby! He said he’d give me an answer!”
“Enough.” Charles’s voice was ice. “It was my decision. This child should never have existed.”
“That’s impossible!” Nancy shrieked.
“There’s no way that was your idea! You clearly loved me—you were gentler with me than you ever were with her! You never hit me, not once, except that day!”
She was shaking with sobs.
Silvia looked at her and said one thing: “Go find a job.”
Nancy froze. The crying stopped.
“Don’t pin all your hopes on a man.”
Then she turned and walked away.
Charles watched her go.
That sentence lodged in his chest like a needle—quiet, unassuming, and sharp.
She wasn’t just talking about Nancy.
She was talking about the version of herself who’d once placed every hope on him.
She didn’t need that anymore.
She walked steadily, without anyone to lean on.
Charles let out a single laugh and left.
Behind him, Nancy wept as if the world were ending. He didn’t look back.