I Was His Secret Genius, Now I’m His Biggest Regret Chapter 12

I Was His Secret Genius, Now I’m His Biggest Regret Chapter 12

The next day was Montgomery Distillery’s annual distributor conference.

Clayton sat on the main stage. The teleprompter in front of him was lit, but it was blank except for the company logo.

His speech lay by his hand, untouched.

He stared at the blank screen and drifted through the entire day in a daze.

When he returned home, the mansion was brightly lit.

The dining table was lavishly set. Savannah had ordered delivery from a Michelin-starred restaurant. Fine porcelain plates, gleaming silver cutlery—everything looked like a staged photo from a magazine.

“Clayton, you’ve worked so hard. Come try this. It’s from the hottest restaurant in town,” Savannah said, her smile flawless.

Daisy excitedly poked at the tiny vegetables on her plate. Beau seemed distracted.

It was a picture of expensive, harmonious perfection.

Yet Clayton felt the house was so empty he could hear an echo.

“Where did Mom go?” Beau suddenly asked softly.

Savannah’s hand paused on her knife and fork.

Daisy curled her lip. “Who cares? Beau, try this foie gras. It’s a hundred times better than the stuff Mom made that always smelled like yeast.”

Savannah smiled and stroked Daisy’s hair. “My little foodie. You have such good taste.”

Clayton said nothing.

He remembered Ava sitting in that seat.

She was always the last to sit down, always busy making sure the children’s meals were just right. She didn’t say much, and she always carried that faint, sweet scent of oak and fermenting grain.

She had simply sat there.

Now that seat was empty.

He couldn’t eat another bite. He put down his cutlery and tugged at his tie. “There’s an emergency meeting at the office.” He stood and left the dining room without looking back.

That night, he slept in his office.

The office was very quiet.

He lay on the sofa, staring at the ceiling.

The one-month deadline he had set for her had long passed.

She hadn’t come back.

He turned over and buried his face in the leather cushion. The cold smell of the leather was suffocating.

From that day on, Clayton used work as an excuse to go home less and less.

At first, Savannah still called or brought takeout to the office. But after being turned away several times, she gradually stopped coming.

With the limitless black card Clayton had given her, she lost herself in Fifth Avenue boutiques and Upper East Side parties, enjoying every moment. Her days were a blur of shopping, spa treatments, and social events.

As for Beau and Daisy, she gradually lost patience with them, too.