My Ex Husband's Greatest Regret

Chapter 10

Caroline's pov

“Please. This ends now.”

My words hung in the tense night air, but Peter didn’t release Alex immediately.

He huffed for a second, his dark short hair blowing his face slightly yet he doesn't move an inch to tuck it like he was did.

He held him there for a few more agonizing seconds, staring into my eyes with that intense, possessive fire that made my knees feel weak.

Alex looked like small pray in his hold, and I couldn't help but feel the pain of seeing someone get hurt because of me.

Finally, with a low growl of frustration, he shoved Alex backward.

“It seems my wife is begging for your mercy....How pitiful.“ Peter snarled.

Alex stumbled but caught himself, breathing hard as he glared at Peter.

“You....You are crazy..no .. you're a lunatic!“ Alex coughed so hard, I felt guilty crawl up my spine.

Peter didn’t spare him another glance. “I am glad you're aware.“

His hand shot out and clamped around my wrist like a steel band.

My eyes widened in total shock, beads of sweat formed on my forehead.

Without another word, he began dragging me toward his car, his strides long and determined.

“Peter, wait....!” I protested, trying to dig my heels into the pavement, but it was useless. He was too strong, too furious.

Alexander stood frozen on the steps, speechless, his mouth slightly open as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

His hands clenched at his sides, but he didn’t move to stop us.

The look of shock and helplessness on his face twisted something deep inside my chest.

Peter yanked open the passenger door and practically shoved me inside before slamming it shut.

I barely had time to pull on my seatbelt before he was in the driver’s seat, starting the engine with a roar. In the backseat, Cerene sat with wide, teary eyes, one hand resting dramatically on her stomach.

“Oh, Peter… please don’t be too rough with her,” she whimpered softly, her voice trembling with fake concern. “She’s been through so much tonight. I don’t want any more fighting because of me.”

But when Peter wasn’t looking, I caught the faint smirk tugging at the corner of her lips in the rearview mirror. The sight made bile rise in my throat.

The drive home was silent and suffocating. Peter’s knuckles were white on the steering wheel. Every few seconds, his jaw would clench, and I could see the muscle jumping under his skin.

Cerene continued her pitiful act from the backseat.. She put up perfect soft sniffles, occasional whimpers about the baby....but every time Peter’s attention was on the road, that secret, satisfied smirk would return.

By the time we reached the Lockwood mansion, my wrist ached from Peter’s unrelenting grip.

He parked aggressively, got out, and came around to my side. He pulled me out of the car without gentleness and started dragging me toward the house.

My small feet followed behind like a little puppy. My heart was betraying me by beating for the same psychopath I was supposed to hate.

“Peter, you’re hurting me,” I hissed, trying to twist free as we moved through the grand entrance.

He ignored me completely.

Cerene trailed behind us slowly, one hand on the wall for support, playing the fragile, helpless role to perfection. “Peter, maybe we should all just calm down…” she said weakly, but her eyes gleamed with hidden satisfaction whenever they met mine.

Peter dragged me up the stairs and down the hallway, bypassing our master bedroom entirely. He kicked open the door to one of the guest rooms ....a sparsely furnished space with a large four-poster bed. Without warning, he pushed me inside.

“Peter, what are you doing?!” I stumbled forward, catching myself on the edge of the bed.

He didn’t answer. Instead, he grabbed silk ties from the dresser drawer ...ones I recognized from our earlier, more intimate days...and moved toward me with frightening purpose.

I tried to back away, but he was faster.

He had that predatory look on his face, and a smirk I knew too well as pure sarcasm.

He caught me around the waist, lifted me onto the bed, and pinned me down.

“Stop fighting me, Caroline,” he growled as he tied my wrists to the headboard posts with efficient, practiced knots. The silk was soft but tight enough that I couldn’t pull free.

My heart pounded wildly as I struggled against the restraints. “Peter, this is insane! Let me go!”

He finished securing my wrists and stepped back, breathing heavily as he stared down at me. His eyes roamed over my bound form with a mix of anger, jealousy, and something darker I couldn’t quite name.

Cerene hovered in the doorway, biting her lip with a pitiful expression, but I caught the triumphant glint in her eyes before she looked away.

Peter walked to the door, his broad shoulders tense. He paused there, one hand on the frame, and looked back at me.

“I want you to learn a lesson tonight, Caroline,” he said, his voice low and dangerously calm. “You belong to me. No matter what money or fancy names you think you have now, you are still my wife. And you will remember that.”

He stepped out into the hallway.

The door clicked shut behind him.

Then came the sound of the lock turning.

I was left alone in the dim guest room, wrists tied to the bed, my heart racing with a storm of fear, rage, and unwanted heat as his final words echoed in my mind.

“Peter!” I shouted, yanking uselessly against the silk ties. “Peter, come back here! You can’t do this!”