Delete My Love for You novel Chapter 111

Darren wasn’t alone in the car; Xena was with him, nestled close to his side in a display of easy intimacy.

Elliot, having already clashed with Darren on the yacht a while back, had learned his lesson. He quickly swapped his scowl for a sycophantic grin. “Mr. Harrington, these lowlifes just wrecked my car. I was about to make them pay for it, but I wouldn’t dream of wasting your time—or your lady’s. Where are you two headed?”

Darren barely reacted, glancing out the window at Charlotte and Ryan.

For a fleeting moment, his eyes locked with Charlotte’s. She looked away almost instantly, as if he were nothing more than a stranger lost in the crowd.

Irritation flashed across Darren’s face. “Not my problem,” he said coolly. “Just thought that woman looked familiar, that’s all.”

Before the words had fully settled, Xena leaned in, her voice gentle and coaxing. “Mr. Harrington, I know Ms. Lawson faked her death two years ago, and lately she’s crossed a line or two, made you angry, but she’s still your ex-wife. Maybe we should help her, just this once?”

The moment she spoke, Elliot’s expression changed.

His gaze flicked over Charlotte, lingering with renewed, predatory interest. For a split second, his pupils shrank as realization dawned.

Damn. He’d been so busy trying to teach that punk a lesson, he hadn’t even noticed the knockout standing right there. But with Xena’s hint—faked her death?

Everyone in Astra’s high society knew Mr. Harrington’s ex-wife had died two years ago. The thought had never crossed his mind.

Back then, Elliot had tried—and failed—to get between Darren and his wife. Now, fate was handing him another chance.

A greedy, twisted hunger flickered in Elliot’s eyes.

Xena, pleased by his reaction, turned to Charlotte with a syrupy tone. “Ms. Lawson, you’ve already abandoned your own son. Surely you won’t turn your back on the boy you’ve been raising, too?”

She smiled, all false sweetness. “Mr. Harrington’s giving you one last chance. Why not just ask him for help?”

Ask him? Those two words felt like a rusted key scraping open a door Charlotte had fought to keep locked.

She’d almost forgotten—during those three years of marriage, the word she’d spoken to him most was “please.”

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