Break Up With My Cruel Fiancé He Regretted It Novel

Break Up With My Cruel Fiancé He Regretted It Novel

Break Up With My Cruel Fiancé He Regretted It Novel

**Break Up With My Cruel Fiancé He Regretted It Novel**

Break Up With My Cruel Fiancé He Regretted It Chapter 01

In the main hall, the wealthy and powerful gathered for the birthday party, a picture of joy and prosperity. Yet in a secluded side room in the backyard, my blind grandfather, Mitchell Billingsley, was coughing up blood, stroke after agonizing stroke.

Before he died, all he wanted was for me to get married.

I looked at my fiancé, Benicio Gudgion, with pleading eyes, but he roughly brushed my hand away. His once gentle eyes were filled with nothing but impatience and disgust.

“Adelynn, our engagement doesn’t give you the right to corner me like this. I have no interest in a marriage born of blackmail.

“I decide my own life. I’ll never compromise just to indulge the whims of a disabled old man.”

He pulled out a wet wipe to clean his hands, then tossed it to the ground.

“I’ve got an emergency at the office. You figure out how to explain this to your grandfather.”

I watched as he walked away. The moment he stepped out of the door, his new secretary, Xiomara Clorley, walked over with an umbrella and slipped her arm naturally through his.

Instead of pulling away, Benicio drew her gently under the umbrella, shielding her from the wind and the rain.

I kicked the discarded wet wipe aside, picked up the water on the table, walked to Grandpa with a soft smile, and crouched down.

“Rest easy, Grandpa. Your grandson-in-law will be here to pay his respects tomorrow.”

Grandpa’s clouded, sightless eyes stared into the void.

His spotted, aged hands trembled as he took the cup.

The ceramic was icy cold to the touch.

He tilted his head back and drained the cold liquid in one gulp.

A few drops, mixed with traces of old blood, trickled down his wrinkled lips.

I took out a handkerchief and gently wiped his face clean.

“Very well. I shall wait,” he rasped.

I helped him lie down and tucked the blanket snugly around him.

The side room smelled of strong medicine and the faint scent of decay.

Laughter and voices drifted in from outside.

The 80th birthday party for Benicio’s grandfather, Agustin Gudgion, was in full swing.

But the man who had saved him — my grandfather — lay dying in this forgotten side room, neglected and unattended.

I sat quietly by the bedside, gazing at Grandpa’s gaunt face, worn away by illness and pain.

My chest tightened, as if an invisible hand had closed around my heart.

The image of Benicio walking away impatiently and Xiomara stepping forward with an umbrella replayed over and over in my mind.

I stood up, opened the door, and stepped out into the rain.

The cold water lashed against my face, bringing me a sense of clarity I had never known before.

In the dead of night, I returned to Benicio’s private villa.

The entire house was dark.

I didn’t turn on the lights.

Sitting on the cold leather couch in the living room, I listened to the ticking of the clock.

At two in the morning, the door lock clicked.

Benicio pushed the door open and walked in.

The motion-sensor light in the entryway flickered on, illuminating his slightly flushed, tipsy face.

He carelessly pulled off his tie and removed his damp tailored suit jacket.

A sweet, heavy scent of perfume drifted into the living room on the cold wind.

It was the same fragrance Xiomara always wore.

Benicio turned to see me sitting in the darkness.

He didn’t look frightened. He simply tugged irritably at his shirt collar.

“Why are you lurking around in the middle of the night?”

He walked over to the bar and poured himself a glass of ice water.

The ice clinked against the glass.

“You embarrassed me at the birthday party today.”

He took a sip of water, his tone haughty.

“You know full well I hate being pressured into making decisions.

“I’m sorry your grandfather is sick, but that doesn’t give you the right to force me into marriage.”

I stayed on the couch, watching him. I didn’t try to explain myself like I usually did, and I didn’t cry.

Benicio set down his glass and stepped in front of me.

He pulled a velvet jewelry box from his pocket and tossed it onto the coffee table.

The box rolled and flipped open.

Inside was a rhinestone bracelet.

“Xiomara went with me on a business trip today. I picked this up at a duty-free shop on the way back.

“It suits you well enough. Consider it your compensation.

“Take this, fix your attitude, and apologize to my grandfather tomorrow. Your little scene in the side room upset him greatly.”

He spoke with a tone of condescending charity, as if I were nothing more than a pet to him.

He expected me to be thankful for any small scrap he gave and to keep groveling at his feet.

I stared at the bracelet, the stones glinting with a cheap, plastic sheen.

It was more than a gift; it was Xiomara’s trophy of triumph.

I stood up and met Benicio’s gaze.

“Take this bracelet back and give it to Xiomara.

“And one more thing.

“Benicio, I won’t marry you. Our engagement is over.”