Cold Husband Burning Regret: The Divorce He Couldn't Handle novel Chapter 61

Mrs. Fontaine was enjoying her little power trip, arms folded across her chest, completely unfazed by the tension in the room. "Oh, what? Angry now? I knew it—"

Before she could finish, Director Fontaine quickly clamped a hand over her mouth.

He turned to Jonathan, his face full of nervous apology. "Mr. Pembroke, my wife didn't realize who she was speaking to. She was out of line. Please, let me apologize on her behalf."

The Pembrokes might not be quite as influential as the Howards, but they were still a powerhouse in the city's elite circles. If Jonathan wanted to make trouble for them, it'd be all too easy.

Jonathan frowned. "Your wife shoved her. Doesn't she owe an apology?"

Director Fontaine nudged his wife hard with his elbow.

Finally realizing she wasn't dealing with ordinary people, Mrs. Fontaine forced herself to mumble a grudging apology.

Jonathan's eyes swept over the couple, a chill flickering in his gaze. "Well? Get out of here."

Neither of them dared argue. Director Fontaine hustled his wife away in shame.

Charlotte glanced at Jonathan's arm. "You hit your arm. Let me take you to get it checked out in orthopedics."

He withdrew his gaze, offering a faint smile. "Sorry to trouble you, Charlotte."

She helped Jonathan into the elevator.

The crowd, who'd been watching the drama unfold, now only whispered more furiously.

"Dr. Sterling could have a man like Mr. Pembroke—why would she ever even look at Director Fontaine?"

"Exactly, this whole rumor sounds bogus to me…"

—

Charlotte accompanied Jonathan to radiology for X-rays. When the results came back, Jonathan sighed, "See? No broken bones, just a little bruising. You worry too much."

Charlotte lowered her eyes, her voice apologetic. "Either way, I'm just glad you're okay."

Jonathan paused in the hallway, turning to look at her. "You know, every single time I run into you, someone's picking on you."

Charlotte blinked, momentarily at a loss. Thinking about it, he wasn't wrong…

"If Professor Carstairs knew his favorite student was being treated like this in the capital, I doubt he'd sleep at night."

But as she passed him, he suddenly stepped in front of her, blocking her way.

Wherever she moved, he blocked her path.

Charlotte looked up, confused. "Mr. Howard, is there something you need?"

"What did you mean by what you said to Jonathan?" Evander pulled his jacket tighter, his eyes cold and almost menacing. "Planning to run off with him?"

"Evander, what is wrong with you?"

Charlotte actually laughed in disbelief, throwing his own favorite words back at him. "Whatever happens between us, leave Jonathan out of it."

She tried to walk away, but he grabbed her wrist, his displeasure unmistakable. "Say that again."

Charlotte shook off his hand. "Why? Does it bother you to hear your own words thrown back at you, Mr. Howard?"

His jaw clenched, but he said nothing, his gaze fixed on her.

She pressed on. "But it's not like anything I say would bother you, right? After all, with the deep bond between you and Miss Winthrop, why would you care what an outsider like me thinks?"