Reclaimed By My Ex-husband Chapter 7: A greedy family

"Five million?" Zara repeated in disbelief, bolting upright on the bed. "I gave you two million just last month. Now you want five? What do you take for?"

"You are my sister. It’s your duty to save ," Jaxon barked, with panic and entitlent.

Zara clenched her jaw. "I don’t have that kind of money."

"Don’t give that crap," he snapped. "You are married into the Grant family. Five million is pocket change to you. Bring it now or they’ll kill ."

Her grip on the phone tightened as rage simred beneath her skin. She wasn’t surprised. This was just another episode in a long, exhausting pattern.

Her so-called family had never seen her as anything more than a ans to an end, milking her for money whenever it suited them. She had even helped her father secure a major deal with the Grant Group, yet the demands only grew more outrageous.

They never asked how she was doing, never cared if she was struggling. They just took.

But not this ti.

Zara’s voice dropped to an icy whisper. "If you need money, call your mother. Don’t ever call again."

She ended the call, turned off her phone, and tossed it onto the side table.

Across the city, inside the smoky haze of a shadowy bar, Jaxon lay crumpled on the cold floor of a private booth, his arms tightly wrapped around his head as boots slamd into his ribs and back. Each strike sent waves of pain through his body.

"Please... Stop hitting ," he cried out, but the rciless blows kept coming. His face was swollen, blood trickled from his lip, and his limbs trembled with agony.

Seated on a leather sofa nearby, a bald man in a sleek black suit watched the beating with cold detachnt. At last, he raised a hand, signaling the two enforcers to halt. They stepped back imdiately.

Jaxon lifted his bruised face, his eyes filled with desperation. "Just a little more ti, please," he begged, coughing. "My sister is married to Nathaniel Grant. She’ll give the money. I swear."

The bald man stood and slowly approached. He sneered as he grabbed Jaxon by the collar and yanked him to his feet. "Do you think I’m stupid?" he growled. "You just called her. I heard every word. She told you to get lost."

Jaxon’s legs barely held him up. "Please—just two days. I’ll pay you back in full. Just give ti."

The man studied him for a long, tense mont. Then, with a threatening glint in his eye, he let go. "Two days. That’s it. If I don’t have my money by then, I’ll co knocking, and I won’t co alone."

He turned and strode away, his bodyguards following close behind.

Jaxon collapsed back to the floor, groaning through clenched teeth. His fists curled tightly against the cold surface. Rage burned in his gut, hotter than the pain in his body.

"Zara..." he hissed. "You heartless witch. I swear, I’ll make you suffer for this."

At Nathaniel’s place...

Nathaniel returned ho. As he closed the threshold, the silence felt heavier than usual. He was expecting Zara to greet him, to take his coat and briefcase like she always did. But instead, Mrs. Jules hurried to him.

"Sir, you are back." She took the briefcase from his hand.

Nathaniel’s eyes scanned the empty hallway, the absence of Zara’s usual warm welco gnawing at him. She was always there, waiting, no matter how late he ca ho, often warming up food so they could share a al together. But tonight, there was nothing but emptiness.

"Where is Zara? Is she asleep?"

Mrs. Jules lowered her gaze and sighed deeply. "She packed her bags and left early this afternoon. She said it’s not right for her to stay here while you are going through the divorce."

Nathaniel froze, disbelief washing over him. "She left?"

"Yes," Mrs. Jules nodded before turning away.

The words echoed in his mind. She left.

He pulled his phone out and dialed her number. It rang and rang, but there was no answer. His frown deepened, frustration and hurt mixing in his eyes. He pulled the phone away from his ear, staring down at it.

"She is not picking up..." he muttered.

For the first ti, she was avoiding him. A bitter sneer curled his lips. "Trying to get my attention, huh? If you think this will make chase after you and beg you to co back, you are wrong. It’s your choice to leave. Fine."

He shoved the phone into his pocket and retreated to the bedroom.

It was nearing midnight when Nathaniel finally shut his laptop and set it aside. Feeling the dryness in his throat, he reached for the glass on his bedside table, but it was empty.

His brow furrowed. That was unusual. He picked up the bottle next to it and discovered that, too, was empty.

A flicker of irritation passed through him. That had never happened before.

"Mrs. Jules," he called out, his voice sharp with annoyance.

No answer.

"Damn it," he muttered under his breath, climbing out of bed with the bottle in hand. He strode out into the hallway. "Mrs. Jules, why is my bottle empty?" he barked again.

Startled, the elderly housekeeper erged from her room, blinking and disoriented from sleep. "Sir? Do you need sothing?" she asked hurriedly.

Nathaniel held up the bottle, scowling. "You forgot to fill it."

Her eyes widened slightly in realization. She bowed apologetically. "I’m so sorry, sir. It was always Madam who handled those little things. I must have overlooked it tonight. I truly apologize. It won’t happen again."

She scurried to the kitchen, returning monts later with a chilled water bottle from the fridge. She handed it to him and took the empty one from his hand.

Nathaniel stared at the fresh bottle, not moving. Her words echoed in his mind.

"She used to fill the bottle for ?"

"Madam took care of everything, sir. She looked after your comfort without ever being asked. She cooked for you and young Master Zane, packed your lunch every morning, and ensured your als were always on ti. Whenever you ca ho drunk, she was the one who made the sober-up soup, cleaned you up, and helped you to bed."

She paused, a weary sigh escaping her lips as mories flickered in her eyes. "No matter how late you ca ho, she waited for you without touching a bite of food. She packed your business bags, ironed your shirts, and made sure your day started without a hitch. There is a long list of things she did, things you never had to think about... because she did them all quietly. She is a good wife, sir. And an even better mother. Maybe you should think twice before—"

"That’s enough," Nathaniel snapped, his tone cutting and final. "No need to advocate for her."

He turned on his heel, retreating to his bedroom with a clenched jaw, but her words clung to him like a shadow.