Cold Husband Burning Regret: The Divorce He Couldn't Handle novel Chapter 414

Tricia froze, her eyes fixed on the small photo on the floor. The words “Paternity Test” blazed even more harshly from the file.

A nurse’s aide noticed her distress and quickly bent to gather the scattered papers. When she saw what it was, she hesitated for just a moment before handing it over.

Tricia recoiled, refusing to even look at the file. She turned her face away, her voice shaking. “I don’t want to see it! It’s a lie! All of it—lies. Throw it away!”

The aide stood there, uncertain, and Tricia suddenly clutched her head and screamed, her voice piercing. “They’re all lying to me! They have to be! Get it away from me!”

Her screams filled the entire ICU. Nurses and doctors hurried in to check on her, followed by a couple of police officers who’d been waiting outside.

Tricia’s breathing became so erratic that she started to hyperventilate. The nurses rushed to place an oxygen mask over her face.

The police officers asked what had happened, but the doctors and nurses could only shake their heads. It wasn’t until the aide, still holding the file, handed it over that someone offered an explanation. “I think it’s because of this…”

The officer accepted the document, then glanced at Tricia, understanding dawning on his face.

…

Charlotte had just reached the surgical building, the hallway bustling with people coming and going, when a tall figure stepped into her path, blocking her way.

She looked up, startled.

Standing before her was Judd, dressed in his usual crisp white shirt. If ever there was a living example of the phrase “gentleman of distinction”—refined, elegant, and composed—it was him.

Charlotte managed a small smile. “Professor Carstairs.”

He nodded politely. “It’s been several days. Have you remembered what I asked you to think about?”

She hesitated, embarrassed. “Honestly… I haven’t.”

For a split second, she thought she saw a flicker of disappointment in Judd’s eyes, but it vanished as quickly as it appeared. “You only have eyes for Evander, don’t you?”

Charlotte mumbled, “I really can’t remember…” Then she ventured, “Could you maybe give me a hint?”

Judd’s lips curled into a rare smile. “If you can’t remember, forget it. Even if I forced you to try, I doubt you’d remember in a year—or two.”

She fell silent, thinking to herself: Without a clue, I wouldn’t remember in a decade.

“Come to Carstairs Manor tomorrow.”

She led Charlotte to the grand living room. “Please, have a seat. I’ll let the young master know you’ve arrived.”

Charlotte settled onto the couch, taking in the opulent surroundings—the sweeping staircase, the European-style décor, the ornate cutlery gleaming on the dining table. Everything screamed old money and impeccable taste.

No wonder the Carstairs were the most elite family in Riverspire City.

She heard footsteps behind her and started to stand, expecting Judd. But the woman who entered was a stranger—a poised woman in her early thirties.

The woman stopped in front of Charlotte, her tone stiff but polite. “I’m Mrs. Howard, the house manager. Mrs. Carstairs sent me to remind you: You’re welcome to spend time with our young master, but please don’t get any ideas about using him—or doing anything that might harm the family.”

Charlotte’s eyelids flickered. Using him?

The Carstairs certainly gave her too much credit.

If she’d really wanted to manipulate Judd, would she have waited this long?

But she didn’t argue, only smiled politely. “You can assure Mrs. Carstairs there’s nothing to worry about. I would never use the Carstairs family for my own gain.”

“See that you don’t.” Mrs. Howard sniffed. “One more thing: Don’t get any funny ideas. The Carstairs family would never accept a divorced woman as their daughter-in-law.”