A Divorce He Regrets

Chapter 303:

“Who said anything about it being sudden?” He raised an eyebrow at me, his lips stretched into an overly confident smirk that grated like sandpaper against my bare skin. This fucking asshole. “I’ve had years to plan.” He boasted, like it was some kind of achievement. All these times he had been at the house, he was planning.

“But why?” I pushed. Grandpa might not have been the easiest when it came to trust, but when he did trust, he went all in to make sure the other person felt safe. It made no sense.

“Because he stole from me. Your parents, specifically, and he let it happen. What was that saying about an eye for an eye?” A glint crossed his eyes, and if Lucifer were real, I could see it in him.

Ever to be reincarnated as a human, he was sure to use Cale as a vessel. The only problem was that the devil would have to get comfortable being bald.

“That’s not possible. Grandpa had everything he ever wanted; he was a contented man. He had wealth even before my parents made theirs.” Even before the Graham name became something juicy enough for the blogs and big-time investors, Grandpa never complained about lacking anything ‘actually necessary,’ as he would put it.

“Well, he did. And maybe, just maybe, if he hadn’t, none of this would be happening.” He eased into the head chair, Raina’s rightful seat. “It’s a shame, really.” He shook his head. “The thief died before I could get my hands on him.” His gaze heated, as if he could actually picture Grandpa taking his last breath with Caleb’s fingers wrapped around his throat.

“What the fuck did he steal for you to do this?” I pushed. I knew I was going down a rabbit hole, but I couldn’t help it.

“Enough with the walk down memory lane.” He waved his hands dismissively. “As it stands, I’m in possession of fifty-one percent of the company’s shares, and you both combined possess forty-nine percent. I believe I need not say more?”

Fuck, not earning a court case.

“You bastard! He trusted you!” I yelled, my throat strained with the force of it, but I was way past caring. He was shocked by my sudden outburst, but before he could react, I shoved the fist I had almost bled into his stupid, smug face.

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The moment my fist connected with his skin, it was retribution, and it felt good. It felt so fucking good.

“Dom, no.” Raina called from somewhere in the room, her voice strained, distant. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her step forward like she was actually going to try to stop me, but she never made it past that step.

Alex held her back as I let my rage bleed into every single punch. He winced.

“Dominic.” The voice echoed, slithering down my spine. It might as well have been a bucket of freezing cold water poured down my back, and it would have had the same effect. Mr. Ying, an aging man with the second highest shares before Cale grabbed the fifty-one percent shares. He never really spoke much, but when he did, it always sounded like a warning.

I grumbled but pulled back. While a lot of people were more bark than bite, Mr. Ying was the opposite.

“Raina would hand over all current projects and empty her desk, effective immediately.”

“On whose authority?” I snapped. It was too fast. The marriage was supposed to fix everything. The nightmare wasn’t getting any better. Every word pulled apart a piece of his legacy, of our legacy.

The entire drive home, my thoughts went haywire, and every minute that passed felt like we were stuck in a room with a countdown, and we had no idea what the hell we were supposed to do.

My blood boiled. It was wrong. Grandpa worked his ass off, part of the reason he wasn’t with us. Raina worked her ass off to make sure those idiots never lost money. I worked my ass off to make sure I could pick up where she left off. And they would toss that aside? Just like that?! And worse, they were going to hand it over to some bald-headed gnome who sprouted out of nowhere.

The entire time, I concluded it was Nathan. He had all the reasons to do it, and he was just questionable enough a character to actually follow through. I felt stupid knowing now that it was, in fact, Cale Osborn, the same man who stayed over for dinner more times than I could count. Grandpa had been right not to trust anyone after all.

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