I’ll Marry His Rival and Burn His Empire to Ash Chapter 11

I’ll Marry His Rival and Burn His Empire to Ash Chapter 11

“Sir, you have rarely come home yourself lately, so perhaps you did not notice.”

The butler’s emotionless words were a dagger dipped in ice, stabbing precisely into Jackson’s weakest point.

He let go of the doorframe and staggered back. Half a month… He truly hadn’t realized for half a month that Ava was gone. Fragments of those weeks flashed through his mind. Every time he’d thought of returning to the estate, Savannah-Claire had stopped him with their son’s crying or her own headaches.

He should have been with Ava. He knew it. Especially after what happened to Chloe.

Sharp regret seized him. He should have come back. He should have held her and comforted her instead of leaving her here to overthink things and make this insane decision to marry Ethan Blackwood.

He had to call the family lawyer. Yes, Howard would handle this. Annul the marriage, or simply make Blackwood disappear from Charleston. The Devereaux family had ways.

He had just taken out his phone when the butler appeared at the door again.

“Sir, there is a lawyer here to see you.”

Jackson’s heart steadied. See? Howard was fast. He hadn’t even had to call.

“Let him in.” He regained a sliver of his Devereaux arrogance.

But the man who walked in was a stranger, a nervous young man clutching a briefcase. When he saw Jackson, his eyes flickered away.

“Mr. Devereaux,” the man cleared his throat, “I am Miss Ava Monroe’s attorney. I’ve been instructed to deliver this copy of the final judgment of divorce to you.”

The blood drained from Jackson’s face, then rushed back in a furious tide.

“What did you say? Ava Monroe?” he growled, like a beast whose territory had been invaded. “She is now, and will always be, Ava Devereaux!”

He snatched the document and, without looking at it, tore it to shreds. Scraps of paper fluttered to the floor like snow.

“Get out!” Jackson pointed at the door, his voice laced with threat. “Go back and tell your client this forged piece of trash won’t fool me. I’ll make sure your entire firm is run out of this town!”

The lawyer turned pale with fright. “No, sir, it’s real! The judgment has taken effect! It was filed based on… based on the divorce agreement you signed yourself!”

“When did I ever sign—”

Jackson’s rebuttal died in his throat.

A rainy night he had all but forgotten split his memory like lightning.

The thunder had been loud. Savannah-Claire was crying on the phone, saying the baby was frightened and needed him. Irritated, he had thrown on his coat and was about to leave when Ava appeared at the study door.

“Jack, there’s a document I need you to sign,” she had said.

Only a dim desk lamp was on. Her face was hidden in shadow.

“What is it?” he’d asked impatiently.

“Routine paperwork for a charitable fund. It’s needed first thing tomorrow.”

Frantic to leave, he hadn’t thought twice. He’d grabbed the pen, scrawled his name at the bottom of the pages she handed him, and rushed out into the rain without a backward glance.

Those pages had been the divorce papers.