Chapter 586

Chapter 586:
Marc, standing there, looked like he’d been slapped. His face went from pale to flushed in seconds. “So what—are you with William because he has more money? Is that it? Is our entire relationship worth less to you than his bank account?”
Stella really didn’t want to waste another second talking to someone as shameless as Marc, so she turned and walked away.
Marc started to follow, but William stepped in and blocked his path.
“Mr. Walsh, you’re not just broke—you’re uncultured, heartless, and useless. Always chasing what you don’t deserve. How could someone like you ever be worthy of Sylvia?”
Marc’s hands curled into fists, his nails digging deep into his palms.
As he stared at William and Stella, he didn’t want to admit it, but he couldn’t deny it—they looked perfect together.
Back when he was married to Stella, she had poured all her attention into him. She usually dressed down at home, rarely wore makeup, and didn’t care much about appearances.
It wasn’t until after the divorce that he realized how stunning she was—great figure, brilliant mind, graceful and composed.
Everything he had taken for granted.
And now that he saw it… it was too late.
Stella kept her tone flat. “Let’s go. There’s no point arguing with him.”
She figured if Marc had ever planned to listen, he would have stopped chasing her a long time ago.
She and William walked into the residential complex. Marc tried to follow, but the automatic gate shut in his face.
Before they left, Stella made sure to tell the security guard, “He’s not welcome here. If he shows up again, don’t let him in.”
The guard nodded. “Understood, Miss. Don’t worry—I won’t let someone like that in.”
Stella smiled faintly in thanks and walked off with William, never once glancing back.
gⱯlnσν𝓮ℓs․cøm is packed with great reads
Marc stood there, watching their figures disappear into the distance.
His heart ached with regret.
He had been staying at a fancy hotel, but his money was almost gone.
Still, he couldn’t bring himself to go home to Doreen.
He had come today hoping Stella might soften up and give him another chance.
But in the end, he couldn’t even get through the gate.
He lingered outside, pacing, unsure where else to go.
Eventually, he drifted toward the roadside, planning to leave.
Just then, someone tapped him on the shoulder.
He turned quickly, hopeful. “Stel—!”
But it wasn’t Stella. It wasn’t even a woman. It was a man in a suit—someone Marc had never seen before.
“You’re Marc Walsh, right?”
Marc frowned. “Who are you, and how do you know my name?”
.
.
.