Lost Me, Gained Regret (Jane and Bryant Ferguson) novel Chapter 853

Heading to the city hall, they avoided the main roads.

But even the side streets shouldn't have been so deserted.

Clearly, these people had been waiting for him for quite some time.

It seemed that the news of him and Christine getting their marriage license must have reached the Clarkson family the moment they boarded the plane.

Dailey's indifferent gaze shifted briefly to the face of the middle-aged man.

He rolled up the car window.

The middle-aged man raised a hand, signaling the armored vehicle to move aside.

Primo drove past, and instead of turning left towards the city hall, he turned right.

Christine had listened to everything and was still a bit shaken. "Dailey."

Dailey turned his head and said directly, "You have no chance to run away now."

Ever since leaving the temple, Christine had felt a growing pressure inside her.

With no divine intervention left, she could no longer suppress it.

But instead of breaking down, she spoke the most cutting words with calm precision.

"Dailey, there are two people I've hated most in my life: my mother, who abandoned me, and my father, who hit me when he drank."

"But now, I realize that compared to them, I despise and loathe you even more."

Dailey, however, clasped her hand, his thumb brushing over the ring on her middle finger.

His handsome face remained composed, not a flicker of anger showing in response to her words.

"Rest assured, I went to great lengths to win you over. I’m not going to let you die—I have no desire to be a widower."

Christine pulled her hand away, and if looks could kill, Dailey would have been shredded to pieces.

"If it weren't for you, I wouldn't have to face all this."

Dailey slightly furrowed his brows, then smirked and said, "Weren’t you the one who pursued me first?"

Christine laughed too, but her eyes were icy. "It was just for fun."

"I’ve always pursued whoever catches my interest."

"You weren't an exception, and later I moved on to Merritt."

Primo floored the gas pedal, wishing they could instantly teleport to the Clarkson family estate.

The two of them weren’t shouting, but the tension was thicker than gunpowder.