"To Jeremiah,” Mark grinned, raising his glass, “finally free from the chains of his ex-wife.”

“About damn time,” Theo added, “She was holding you back, man. Now you can do whatever the hell you want.”

Jeremiah smirked, swirling the whiskey in his glass. “Like I wasn’t already doing whatever I wanted. That bitch couldn't hold me back.”

The men laughed, all nodding in agreement.

The bar was softly lit, and smelt of cigar smoke and expensive whiskey. Jeremiah leaned back in his chair, his tie slightly loosened. His three so-called friends..Mark, Theo, and Damien—clinked their glasses together, smirking like a bunch of high school idiots reliving their glory days.

“But I mean,” Damien leaned forward with a drunken smile, “Nora was fucking hot. You kinda lost that."

"Yeah, she is smoking hot." Theo added with a chuckle.

Jeremiah scoffed. “Yeah… but Kimberly, my side piece..is hotter.”

The table went silent for half a second before Mark snorted. “I mean, she’s cute and all, but let’s be real. She's not beating Nora."

“Nah, man,” Theo shook his head. “No one’s topping Nora’s gorgeous body.”

“Facts.” Damien stood up, using his hands to mimic the shape of an hourglass. “That ass? Perfection.”

The men laughed again, except Jeremiah. His jaw clenched, his grip on his glass tightening.

“But she was a bitch,” Mark added with a shrug. “So thank God you got rid of her.”

"Yeah..." The table agreed.

But Jeremiah said nothing, just downed the rest of his drink, the burn in his throat not nearly enough to drown out the sudden irritation crawling under his skin.

His jaw was tight, his fingers flexing like he was resisting the urge to punch someone.

Damien, completely oblivious, kept going. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I would have put up with her attitude just to fuck her for—"

Before he could finish, Jeremiah shot up from his seat, grabbing Damien by the collar and yanking him forward.

“What the fuck did you just say?” Jeremiah’s voice was low, but ice cold.

The laughter died instantly. Mark and Theo exchanged glances, their amusement fading.

“Whoa, man, relax,” Damien said, hands up. “I was just joking.”

Jeremiah’s grip tightened. “You don’t talk about her like that.”

Mark stood, stepping between them. “Jesus, Jeremiah, you’re the one who just called her a bitch five seconds ago.”

Jeremiah’s eyes turned to him, dark and dangerous. “Yeah. Me. Not any of you lowlifes.”

Theo scoffed, shaking his head. “Dude, are you seriously getting defensive over your ex-wife? The one you cheated on? The one you’re celebrating getting rid of?”

Jeremiah shoved Damien back so hard he nearly fell into the table. “Say another word, Theo, I fucking dare you.”

Theo raised his hands. “Alright, alright. Whatever, man.”

Damien straightened his shirt, glaring. “You need to get your head checked. You wanna fight over a woman you tossed to the curb? That’s some real pathetic shit.”

Jeremiah lunged before anyone could stop him, landing a solid punch across Damien’s jaw. The sound of impact rang through the bar.

Damien stumbled back, clutching his face. “You son of a—”

He tried to punch back, but Jeremiah dodged easily, his own fist slamming into Damien’s ribs. The force knocked the air out of him, sending him crashing into a table. Glass shattered, drinks spilled, and the other patrons started shouting, some scrambling away, others watching with entertained interest.

Mark grabbed Jeremiah’s arm, trying to pull him back. “Enough, man! Jesus Christ!”

Jeremiah shook him off, breathing hard, his knuckles throbbing. Damien groaned on the floor, coughing.

The bartender pointed a furious finger at them. “Get the hell out before I call the cops!”

Jeremiah didn’t need to be told twice. He snatched his jacket, throwing one last glare at Damien before walking out of the bar.

The cool night air did nothing to calm the fire burning in his chest.

What the fuck was wrong with him?

Why did hearing those assholes talk about Nora like that make him want to kill someone?

He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply.

He needed another drink.

Or maybe… maybe he needed to see her.

No. Hell no.

He needed to go home, sleep this shit off. That’s all. By morning he would be back to his senses.

But the house, their house—felt empty without her in it. Every damn corner had her touch, her scent, her presence.

Did he… miss her?

“Fuck!!!” He shouted into the empty street, running a hand through his hair.

What the hell was wrong with him?

He should be happy. Relieved even.

Being married to Nora was like serving a prison sentence, and now he was finally free. No more feeling like he was under a microscope.

His jaw clenched. He didn’t want to think about this anymore. He needed a distraction. Now.

Pulling out his phone, he dialed Kimberly.

She picked up on the first ring. "Well, well, well," she purred. "Look who’s calling."

“Wear something sexy and come over,” he ordered, his voice rough. "I need a distraction."

"Oh?" Kimberly practically moaned into the phone. "And here I thought you were still upset with me."

“Are you coming or not?”

A pause, then a sultry laugh. “I’ll be there soon.”

Jeremiah hung up, shoving his phone back into his pocket.

Yeah. This was exactly what he needed.

Right on time, Andrew, his personal assistant, pulled up in the Rolls-Royce.

“Apologies for the delay, sir,” he said calmly.

Jeremiah exhaled, barely sparing him a glance as he entered the car. “Just drive, Andrew.”

Andrew nodded and began driving. The car was silent except for the fact that Andrew kept staring at Jeremiah from the rearview mirror.

Jeremiah’s patience wore out. “If you keep looking at me like that, Andrew, and I might start thinking you have a crush on me.”

Andrew cleared his throat. “Uh… no, sir. It’s just… you asked me to check on Mrs.—on Nora after her accident earlier today.”

Jeremiah barely reacted. “Yeah? And?”

Andrew hesitated.

A little too long.

Jeremiah turned his head, narrowing his eyes. “And?”

“When I got there… she was already gone.”

Jeremiah scoffed. “So? That just means she’s fine. Like I said she just wanted some fucking attention.”

Andrew’s hands tightened on the steering wheel.

“Sir… there’s more.”

Jeremiah didn’t even bother looking at him. “Well? Spit it out.”

Andrew took a slow breath. “She didn’t leave alone.”

Jeremiah sighed, already bored. “And why the hell would I care?”

Andrew hesitated again.

“My sources say she left with…” he swallowed hard, as if he knew he was about to set off a bomb.

Jeremiah rolled his eyes. “For goodness sake, just say it. Andrew."

“Henry Worth,” Andrew said quickly. “CEO of Z-Innovations.”

Silence.

The name slammed into Jeremiah like a punch to the gut. But he didn’t react, not at first. Didn’t move, didn’t breathe. Nothing. His face remained perfectly blank.

Andrew kept his eyes straight ahead, like he hadn’t just delivered the worst news of the night.