My Ex Husband's Greatest Regret

Chapter 8

Caroline's pov

“Peter,” I said slowly, my voice shaking with barely contained emotion as I stared him dead in the eyes, “you think being my husband still gives you the right to put your hands on me?”

His face twisted instantly. The brief mask of control shattered as rage flooded every feature. His eyes narrowed into dangerous slits, lips pulling back from his teeth in a snarl. Before I could move, his fingers clamped around my upper arm like a vice, squeezing so hard I gasped at the fresh burst of pain.

“She belongs to me,” he growled at the bodyguards, his voice loud and venomous, spittle flying. “All of you, f**k off! This is between me and my wife. You have no right to interfere in our marriage.”

I winced as his grip tightened, his nails digging into the same bruised spot from earlier. My heart hammered wildly against my ribs. I could feel the heat radiating off his body, the way his chest heaved with each angry breath. The bodyguards stiffened, hands twitching like they wanted to step in, but they held back, watching me.

“It’s okay,” I said quickly, forcing the words out through clenched teeth even though every instinct screamed at me to fight. “Let him go. I’ll handle this.”

Peter didn’t wait for them to fully step aside. He yanked me forward, practically dragging me down the hallway toward the exit. His strides were long and furious, forcing me to stumble after him in my heels. The party music grew louder then faded as we moved past open doors where guests glanced our way with curious stares. My cheek still burned from his slap, and my arm throbbed under his unrelenting hold. I could feel the eyes of the bodyguards following us, but they didn’t intervene.

We pushed through the main doors and out onto the wide stone steps of the venue. Cool night air hit my face, but it did nothing to calm the storm inside me. Peter’s fingers remained locked around my arm as he pulled me down the first few steps, muttering under his breath about how I was embarrassing him, how I needed to remember my place.

Behind us, I heard hurried footsteps. Cerene came rushing after us, her designer dress fluttering around her legs. Her face wasn’t pitiful anymore. It was twisted with raw anger, eyebrows drawn tight, lips pressed into a thin, furious line. She was trembling all over, but this time it looked like fury rather than fear. She clutched the railing as she hurried down the steps after us.

“Peter, wait!” she called, her voice sharp.

Peter ignored her at first, focused on hauling me toward the waiting cars at the bottom of the stairs. His breathing was ragged, his free hand clenched into a fist swinging at his side.

Then Cerene missed a step.

Her heel caught on the edge of the stone, and she let out a sharp cry as she pitched forward. Her arms flailed, hands grabbing uselessly at the air. She tumbled down two steps, landing hard on her side with a sickening thud.

Peter froze mid-step. His head snapped toward her, eyes widening in panic. Without a second thought, he released my arm like I was burning him and bolted back up the steps toward Cerene.

“Cerene!” he shouted, his voice cracking with fear as he dropped to his knees beside her. He gathered her up carefully, one hand cradling the back of her head while the other rested on her stomach. “Are you okay? Talk to me. Is the baby—?”

Cerene curled into him, clutching at his shirt with both hands. Her face crumpled, and loud, gasping sobs broke free as tears streamed down her cheeks. “Peter… it hurts… what if the baby… oh God, I felt a sharp pain when I fell. The doctors warned me about stress and falls. What if I lose it? What if our baby is gone because of this?”

She buried her face against his chest, her shoulders shaking violently as she cried harder, her voice muffled but desperate. “I can’t lose this baby… not after everything. Please, Peter, it’s your child. I need you right now.”

Peter held her tighter, rocking her gently on the cold steps, completely forgetting I was even there. His hands moved over her protectively, checking for injuries while murmuring soft, soothing words into her hair. The tenderness in his touch, the way his entire body curved around hers… it was the same way I had once wished he would hold me.

I stood a few steps below them, my arm aching where he’d gripped it, my slapped cheek still throbbing. The night air felt colder now, biting against my skin as I watched my husband comfort my twin sister like she was the only thing that mattered in his world.

My hands curled into fists at my sides, nails digging into my palms as a fresh wave of pain and anger surged through me.

“Peter,” I said, my voice cutting through Cerene’s sobs, low but sharp with tension, “are you seriously going to leave me standing here after everything you just did?”