Divorce to Destiny: Reclaiming My CEO Husband by Anney GW

453 Playing the Game

(Jayden)

The dimly lit bar in the private London club is quiet, the hum of low conversation and the occasional clink of glassware blending into the background.

Judy sits across from me, her posture regal, her lips curling into a satisfied smile as she lifts her glass of aged scotch.

"To freedom," she says, raising her glass.

"To freedom," I echo, clinking my glass against hers. The burn of the whiskey is soothing. I lean back, feigning the relaxed confidence she expects from me. "You look better already," Judy says, her eyes studying me intently. "You're finally stepping into your potential, Jayden. It suits you."

"I'm finally seeing things clearly," I reply, letting a small smirk tug at my lips. "Winona and her chaos? Gone. It's liberating."

She laughs lightly, a sound that grates against my nerves. "I always knew you'd come around eventually. You deserve better than that mess of a woman." "Maybe you're right," I say, swirling the amber liquid in my glass. "The kids, though... I'll miss them."

"You don't have to," she says smoothly, leaning forward. "Jayden, they're better off with you. All of them. Bobby and Sarah may not be yours by blood, but they're part of the package. If you had full custody, you could give them everything Winona never could-stability, structure, and a future."

I raise an eyebrow, feigning curiosity. "And how would I even begin to make that happen?"

Her smile widens, the glint in her eyes unmistakable. "Winona is fragile, Jayden. Always has been. It wouldn't take much to push her over the edge. You've seen it yourself. The photos, the infidelity, her erratic behavior-any good lawyer could build a case." I take a slow sip, letting her words sink in. "You really think that would work?"

says confidently. "She's barely holding it together as it is. And once she cracks, you'll have everything. The kids, the power to

it," I say carefully,

"Good. It's time you took control of your life, Jayden. No more letting weak people drag you

grip on the glass tightens, but I

watch. "I

as she does. "Thank you

hand on my arm. "I'm proud of you, Jayden. Truly. You're

a

heels clicking against the polished floor as she disappears through the door. The moment she's gone, I pull out my phone, stopping the recording

a slow breath. It's something-a start-but not enough to take her

the bar, signaling for another drink. My mind drifts to Winona and the kids. The ache in my chest is sharper than I expected. They should

text: Let me know when you've landed. I need to

and I nod in thanks. I

presence feels like a sudden storm cloud on an otherwise controlled evening. "Jayden," he says,

keeping my tone

chair Judy vacated and sits without waiting for an invitation.

"No, we don't."

I know things are broken between us. I know I