A Divorce He Regrets

Chapter 283:

But inside, I didn’t know if I was really capable of leaving—not with Nathan still lurking and my business hanging in the balance.

And I sat there in the stillness of my house, my thoughts reeling in confusion, left to ponder in a gentle, conflicted whisper,

“What am I supposed to do now?”

RAINA

I knew he was angry with me—of that, I was certain—but I prayed in my heart that he would realize I had done what needed to be done for Nathan to release Faith. I could still feel the icy chill that ran through my veins when Nathan had attempted to lay hands on me. His hurtful words echoed in my head; he had told me that he couldn’t wait anymore.

I struggled against him with all the strength within me, but I knew that if Alex hadn’t interrupted him at exactly the right moment, Nathan would have won. Even then, somehow Nathan had managed to slip away before Alex could completely show himself, leaving me to wonder where in the darkness he had disappeared to.

Later, desperate and trembling, I attempted to phone Alex, but the line was dead. Half of me felt appallingly empty, half my soul ripped away. It wasn’t the pain or the fear—it was the suffocating loneliness of being left behind when I most needed him.

That was when Dom came around, his eyes weighed down with concern.

“We have to talk,” he said gently, his voice firm and argumentative in a way that wasn’t to be denied.

I nodded absent-mindedly, until I heard the gravity in his voice. The seriousness of the moment pressed in around me, and I knew something was going to be different.

“I went to the office.” His voice was steady and firm, like he was about to drop a bomb.

I blinked in anticipation, ready to hear what he had to say.

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Dom exhaled deeply and continued to explain, “There were questions at the board. They were demanding to know what was going on—where you were, why our stocks were falling.” He paused and continued, “Apparently, there’s someone out there claiming to be part of the Grahams. He says he’s our brother and he wants his own share of what our father left us. He came to the company to make a scene, and, well, you know, the board members didn’t take it kindly.” His tone was low, thick with exhaustion and rage.

I sat, my mind reeling with memories of my grandmother’s stern words and the bitter truth about my father’s infidelity. In that instant, the rumors and whispers about the other brother—the product of that affair—flashed through my mind like dark specters. I could literally hear Grandma’s voice echoing in my ears, “Your father did cheat.” And now the product of his toil comes to haunt us.

Unable to dispel the storm raging within me, I asked hesitantly, “Do you have any say in all this? Is there anything in the will about him, any mention that he is worthy of a share?”

Dom’s eyes flamed with remorse as he spoke, “I can try to…”

“Stake something, but nothing in the will said a word about him. Not even when our grandfather passed away.” His words echoed, agonized, affirming that our mother’s condition for our father’s actions had been absolute—no part of his betrayal would be legitimized.

I recalled those harsh words from Grandma, the strict condition our mother had imposed on him, and my heart filled with deep sadness mixed with a touch of anger. “So, all this is just our cross to bear?” I muttered to myself rather than to him.

Dom did not respond; his silence said it all. All I could do was sit there, wrestling with the fact that our family’s honor had been stained by betrayal, and that the past had returned in the shape of a man who was never supposed to be. I collapsed into a chair, the weight of constant issues bearing down on me. “When does it ever stop?” I sighed, looking at Dom.

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