Walking Away While Pregnant: Dear Ex-Husband, I Don't Love You Anymore novel Chapter 142

Chapter 142: Chapter 142

Down on the beach, just as Dylan was accepting a third bottle of beer from Alexander, his chest suddenly tightened. A violent pang shot through his heart.

The bottle slipped from his hand, beer gushing out onto the sand.

Driven by a sudden, ominous premonition, Dylan bolted to his feet and sprinted toward the guesthouse.

His abrupt departure left everyone staring in bewilderment. Alexander hesitated for a fraction of a second before standing up too. He turned to Mrs. Shaw and said, "I’ll go check on him. Please watch the kids for us!"

"Huh?" Mrs. Shaw was already tipsy. Watching the two handsome men suddenly pull a hundred-meter dash toward the guesthouse, she turned to Dona and slurred, "Look at that... handsome guys really are different. Such discipline. Going for a late-night run right after drinking!"

Dona had also had a few too many. Hearing Mrs. Shaw’s comment, she nodded in vehement agreement. "Right? You have no idea how competitive it is these days. The male celebrities in our industry don’t dare slack off on cosmetic treatments or workouts. They have no choice—fans have incredibly high standards now..."

The moon was hidden behind a thick blanket of clouds, turning the night as dark as ink. Danger had arrived in total silence.

When Dylan burst into the backyard through the guesthouse’s rear entrance, the sounds of a struggle echoed from the second-floor balcony. It was coming directly from Elise’s room.

Dylan glanced up at her window. Just as he was about to rush inside and upstairs, a figure was violently thrown over the balcony railing. With a heavy thud, the body slammed hard into the grass below.

Immediately after, another tall, agile figure leapt down from the balcony, moving with lightning speed to pin the struggling, black-clad man to the ground.

Dylan rushed over. Aided by the low garden lights on the lawn, he got a clear look at the intruder’s face. Blonde hair, blue eyes—a stranger.

Dylan narrowed his eyes. The apocalyptic terror that had gripped him moments ago dissolved, replaced instantly by a towering rage. He pressed his lips together and turned his gaze to James, who was keeping the intruder pinned. "Where is Elise?"

"We got here just in time. The Madam is sound asleep and wasn’t disturbed at all," James reported. "Sam is guarding her upstairs."

Hearing this, the heavy knot in Dylan’s chest finally loosened.

Just then, Alexander caught up, breathing heavily. Taking in the scene in the yard, he frowned and walked over slowly. He looked down at the restrained foreigner, then back at Dylan. "Mr. Bennett, what is going on here?"

Dylan shot him a glance but didn’t answer. Instead, he ordered James, "You and Sam take him somewhere secure and keep watch. I’ll be over shortly."

"Understood." James tapped the Bluetooth earpiece in his ear. "Sam, pull back."

The moment the words left his mouth, a lithe figure dropped from the balcony, landing squarely right in front of Alexander.

Alexander froze.

Sam stood up, dusted off his hands, and looked at Dylan with deep respect. "The Madam is sleeping very deeply. Also, I just fixed the broken lock on her balcony door. She shouldn’t notice anything when she wakes up tomorrow."

Dylan gave a curt nod. "Take him away."

"Yes, sir." Sam and James dragged the black-clad man into the shadows.

Only Dylan and Alexander remained in the backyard. The wind finally swept the clouds away, letting the moonlight filter down. It cast two long, sharp shadows across the grass. A cool night breeze blew past, sending a few withered leaves drifting silently from the trees.

"Who was that?" Alexander looked at Dylan, lowering his voice. "Was he after Miss Harper?"

Dylan’s face grew incredibly dark, his eyes turning stone-cold. "You’d do well not to pry into things that don’t concern you. Knowing too much won’t end well for you."

"I’ve spent plenty of time working abroad, and I’ve represented major international corporations. I know perfectly well that whenever power and money are at stake, people resort to underhanded tactics." Alexander dropped his voice even lower. "If I’m not mistaken... during the fire at the charity gala, you rushed to Miss Foster’s side first not to protect her, but to use her as a shield to draw danger away from Elise. The people behind that fire and the foreigner tonight belong to the same faction, don’t they?"

"Don’t flatter yourself with your own cleverness," Dylan said cuttingly. "I’ll say it one last time: keep your mouth shut. If Elise finds out about tonight, don’t blame me for getting ugly."

With that ultimatum, Dylan turned and vanished into the night.

Alexander stood frozen, watching his figure blend into the darkness with a conflicted expression. After a long moment, he let out a heavy sigh, murmuring under his breath, "Do you really think you can keep her in the dark forever?"

The night breeze brushed past, scattering loose leaves. Alexander looked up at Elise’s dark window, asking himself the ultimate question.

Should he tell her?

His intuition told him there was a massive web of hidden truths behind the rift between Elise and Dylan. As her friend, he knew he should tell her. They were husband and wife; no matter the danger or the secret, she had a right to know the truth as Mrs. Bennett.

Yet, a darker, quieter voice inside him whispered: Don’t tell her.

Let her keep hating Dylan. That was the only way she would follow through with the divorce.

Reason and selfish desire tore at him, neither side able to win the upper hand. That night, Alexander didn’t sleep a wink.