From Servitude to Savvy; The Ex-husband's Revenge

Remembrance

Max gritted his teeth and clenched his fist, his eyes burning with furry as he refused to show any sign of gratitude.

Chief Rawlings gestured to the officer standing behind Max, and he quickly kicked the back of Max’s knee, forcing him to kneel against his will.

Tate smirked and gestured to the officers to excuse them, which they did. Then he squatted to Max’s height, a smile of victory spreading across his lips.

“You must be wondering why I released you, right?" He asked but didn't wait for a response before explaining, "Well, it's because I need you to sign the divorce papers so I can finally marry my woman.”

Tate leaned closer to Max’s ear and whispered, “I heard the last time you touched her was on your wedding night. F*ck, you need to hear her screaming my name when I’m stroking deep inside of her. She's so f*cking tight!”

Max’s anger exploded. He attempted to attack, but Tate, who already knew what was coming, quickly evaded it as he stood up to his feet.

He ordered the officers to hold him down as he was raging like a mad dog, which they immediately did.

Tate gathered maximum strength in his fist and struck Max’s face, but Max didn't back down as he spat the blood on his mouth at his face.

“F*ck!” Tate exclaimed in disgust as he wiped off the bloody spit from his face. “Trash him some more and throw him out.” He ordered before striding away.

The officer started to stomp on Max, but he gathered his strength and thundered, “Tate, I promise I will return this favor 10 folds.”

****

It was almost midnight when Max eventually arrived home. Every step he took was filled with pain. His white shirt was now a mixture of brown and red from the dirt and the stain of his own blood.

As he walked past the garden, he noticed the domestic staff clearing tables, emptying glass, and doing a general cleaning as if an occasion was just concluded there.

The staff whispered and giggled as he limped into the main house, but Max wasn't offended, or rather, he was used to the disrespect even from the domestic staff; after all, they had more respect than him in the Kingsley mansion.

As he limped into the living room where the whole family were seated, the giggles and whispers died down as every eye turned on him.

“Look who is finally here! The man of the house!” Ashford Kingsley, Aria’s elder brother teased, and everyone laughed except Lady Cynthia Kingsley, Max’s mother-in-law.

Her eyes burned with anger and the look of pure disdain and hatred she always had whenever Max was around resurfaced.

“Who do you think you are to waltz in and out of this house however you like? Have you forgotten the rules? And you dare stay out for three consecutive days?” She asked angrily.

There was a rule set for only Maximilian Stratford. ‘Be home by 11pm or sleep in the staff quarters.’

In the past three years, Max has slept in the staff quarters more than he’d slept in his wife's room because his evening shift ends by 10:40pm giving him only 20 minutes to make a 30 minute journey home.

“Mother, I…”

Everyone guffawed simultaneously, intentionally interrupting Max.

“Mom, when did you give birth to such a loser?” Ava, Aria’s older sister, asked, sitting on the couch with her hands wrapped around her husband— Bennett Carrey, Managing director of one of Wessixia’s biggest fashion brands.

“Dad was the only reason you got to marry my sister and live in this house, and you couldn't even make it to his second year remembrance? How irresponsible!” Annabelle, Aria’s immediate younger sister, scolded. Her Business tycoon husband, Caleb Manning, was also present, serving water to their mother-in-law in an attempt to calm her down.

Caleb shook his head in disgust as he went back to his seat, “I wonder what Father saw in him to cherish him so much.”

Even though they could clearly see that Max was barely breathing, they all decided to turn a blind eye to it like they did two years ago when Max had an accident and still had to run errands for their mother-in-law as soon as he regained his consciousness.

Max's gaze darted around the room, but the one person he needed to see was not present.

Though saddened for missing the remembrance of his father-in-law who died a few months after being terminally ill, Max mind was crowded by the recent turnout of events since the first mention of divorce.

“Moth— I apologize for missing Father's remembrance, but I need to speak to my wife right now.” He said, “Where is she? Where is Aria—” his voice trailed off as he heard familiar giggles echoing from upstairs.

One was obviously Aria's, and the other was that of a man.

“Don't worry, love, we will celebrate your divorce in a grand style.” The voice, which was obviously Tate's, reassured her.

Max's eyes widened in disbelief as he saw Aria walking down the stairs hand in hand with Tate.

He felt his heart churning in his chest as he lunged towards them as soon as they arrived at the footstep of the stairs.

“What the f*ck are you doing with my wife in my house?” He thundered as he furiously grabbed Tate’s neck.