Chapter 22 up
“I want to see Vincent. Now.”
Clark’s voice was cold, loaded with pressure, as he stood in front of the main reception desk on the ground floor of Vincent’s company. His eyes were red, his jaw clenched, his patience hanging by a thread.
The receptionist maintained a professional smile. “Do you have an appointment, sir?”
“I don’t need an appointment to see the man who’s seducing my wife,” Clark snapped.
Several employees turned to look. The lobby, once calm, grew tense.
The receptionist was about to respond when a calm voice spoke from behind.
“Let him come up.”
Clark turned.
Vincent stood a few steps away, his suit immaculate, his expression composed—far too calm for someone who had just been accused of stealing another man’s wife.
“I’ve been meaning to speak with you,” Vincent added evenly. “My office. Upstairs.”
Clark glared at him with burning fury. “Good. I don’t like making scenes in public.”
Vincent only offered a faint smile.
The private elevator carried them upward in suffocating silence. Clark’s hands were clenched into fists, while Vincent stood relaxed, as if completely untouched by the storm of anger beside him.
When the elevator doors opened, Vincent stepped out first.
“Please,” he said briefly.
The moment the office door closed—
“Don’t pretend to be calm!” Clark shouted. “I know exactly what you’re doing to my wife!”
Vincent placed a stack of files neatly on his desk, then looked straight at Clark. “I offered her a job.”
“You seduced her!” Clark’s voice rose. “You took advantage of her weakness!”
Vincent crossed his arms over his chest. “Interesting. Because from what I see, Nyla doesn’t look weak at all.”
Hearing her name only fueled Clark further.
“Don’t say her name with your mouth!” Clark stepped forward. “You think with money and power, you can take whatever you want?”
Vincent didn’t back away. His gaze remained cool. “I’ve never taken anything that wasn’t given willingly.”
Clark let out a harsh laugh. “Of course she gave you attention. You’re rich. You gave her a job. Something—” he paused briefly, then continued venomously, “—something you know I didn’t give her.”
Vincent’s eyes sharpened. “You admitted it yourself.”
“What are you talking about?” Clark barked.
“I mean,” Vincent replied calmly, “you came here full of anger, jealousy, and accusations. But not once did you ask whether Nyla wanted to be saved… or whether she wanted to be free.”
Clark fell silent for a moment.
“You have no right to talk about my marriage!” he said at last.
Vincent walked toward the large window overlooking the city. “A marriage is supposed to protect, not restrain.”
Clark followed him. “You think you’re a good man just because you gave her a job?”
“I think,” Vincent said, turning back, “I’m a man who knows boundaries.”
“Bullshit!” Clark stepped closer until only a single step separated them. “You don’t see her as an employee. You want her.”
Vincent smiled faintly—not mocking, but cold. “You’re very wrong.”
Clark shoved Vincent’s chest.
The shove wasn’t hard, but it was intentional.
“I won’t let you touch her,” Clark threatened.
Vincent glanced down at Clark’s hand on his chest, then lifted his gaze back to his face. “If you touch me again, security will come in. But that’s not what I want to say most.”
Clark growled. “Say it!”
Vincent exhaled slowly. “I respect Nyla. More than you ever did.”
The words struck Clark square in the chest.
“What did you say?” His voice trembled.
“You left her without protection,” Vincent continued. “Without money. Without clarity. Then you show up furious when someone else gives her an opportunity.”
“That’s our business!” Clark shouted.
“No,” Vincent cut in firmly. “The moment you left her alone, it became a matter of humanity.”
Clark stared at Vincent with pure hatred. “Don’t pretend to be a hero.”
“I don’t need to,” Vincent replied flatly. “Because Nyla doesn’t need a hero. She just needs room to breathe.”
Clark fell silent. His breathing was heavy.
“She’s my wife,” he said quietly, possessively. “And she’ll come back.”
Vincent stepped one pace closer. “You can love her, or you can own her. But you can’t do both the same way.”
Clark clenched his fists. “I won’t give up.”
“I’m not asking you to,” Vincent said. “I’m only asking one thing.”
Clark eyed him warily. “What?”
“Stop emotionally abusing her,” Vincent said without hesitation. “If you love her, prove it. If you don’t—don’t destroy her courage just because your ego is wounded.”
Clark laughed bitterly. “You talk as if you know her.”
Vincent turned toward his desk, then looked back at Clark. “I know her well enough to know… that one day, you will regret the way you treated her.”
Clark turned toward the door.
“One more thing,” Vincent said before Clark opened it. “If you come here again with threats… I won’t stay silent.”