Cold Husband Burning Regret: The Divorce He Couldn't Handle novel Chapter 362

Genevieve stumbled back a step, her face drained of color.

Everyone had seen how harshly she’d gone after Charlotte earlier, and now, not one soul stepped up to defend her.

Charlotte tugged at Wesley’s sleeve and whispered, “Let’s just leave her be. There are so many people here—the whole party can’t grind to a halt just because of her, right?”

Wesley snapped out of his thoughts and grinned. “Look at me, completely forgetting.” He turned to Sean. “Dad, can we get this party started?”

Sean nodded and began to welcome the guests. The crowd dispersed, breaking off into little groups, laughing, chatting, and sipping their drinks.

Genevieve stood frozen, isolated. The other socialites, eager to avoid any awkwardness, didn’t even bother coming over to greet her.

When had she ever been humiliated like this?

Was it when she first started targeting Charlotte?

Or was it when Charlotte finally pushed back?

It seemed like ever since then, nothing had gone her way…

Feeling utterly alone, Genevieve couldn’t muster the courage to linger. She turned and left the party.

Meanwhile, Charlotte and Wesley took to the floor for the first waltz. No one spared a thought for Genevieve’s departure—most didn’t even notice she’d gone.

“Didn’t know my little sister could waltz this well,” Wesley said, flashing a knowing smile.

Charlotte glanced up at him. “Are you underestimating me?”

Wesley laughed. “Honestly, it’s hard to imagine letting you dance with anyone else.” He shot a look at Judd, knowing the next variation meant it was time to switch partners.

As Wesley gently let go of Charlotte’s hand, intending to pass her to Judd, a masked man suddenly stepped in, intercepting her before anyone could react.

In the blink of an eye, the masked man had claimed Charlotte as his partner, leaving both Wesley and Judd momentarily stunned, watching as she was swept away.

Charlotte rested her hand on the masked man’s shoulder, peering up at the face half-hidden behind the mask. Her heart gave a sudden, anxious flutter.

His build, his eyes, his features—he looked so much like Evander, except for the unfamiliar scent of his cologne.

The man met her gaze for a brief second, then looked away, impassive. He guided her through the dance with effortless precision.

Charlotte let out a self-mocking smile as she remembered hearing that Evander had gone abroad to recover from his injuries. There’s no way it could be him…

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