Divorce To Marry a CEO

Chapter 24: A Heartfelt Reunion

She shook her head, her gaze drifting toward the horizon. "No, my dear. I’m heartbroken, yes. But not angry. Gerald has been lost to us for a long time. Your mother, God rest her soul, tried to save him, but..." Her voice trailed off, the pain of her daughter I'm law's loss evident in her expression. "Your mother knew what kind of man Gerald had become. She loved this family more than anyone, and she paid the ultimate price for it."

Alexander felt a sharp pang in his chest at the mention of his mother. She had been the guiding force in his life, the one who had taught him everything he knew about business, loyalty, and family. And Gerald had taken her from him. The thought reignited the cold anger that had been simmering inside him since her death.

"Grandma," Alexander said quietly, "I need to apologize. I sent your son to prison. I had no choice. He would have destroyed everything if I hadn’t stopped him."

Mrs. Evans turned to him, her gaze soft but firm. "You don’t need to apologize, Alexander. Gerald made his choices, and those choices led him to this end. I’ve been watching the feud between you two for years, and in my heart, I knew it would come to this. I just..." She paused, her voice cracking. "I just blame myself."

Alexander was taken aback. "Blame yourself? How could you possibly—"

"I should have seen the signs earlier," she whispered, her eyes misting with unshed tears. "Gerald was always ambitious, even as a boy. But somewhere along the way, that ambition turned into greed. And I… I let it happen."

"Grandma, no," Alexander said firmly, reaching for her hand. "Gerald’s choices are his own. You did everything you could. And now, we’re putting things right. The company, the family… we’re rebuilding."

Mrs. Evans managed a small, sad smile. "You’ve always been my favorite, Alexander. Your mother’s spirit lives on in you. You have her strength, her intelligence. She would be so proud of the man you’ve become."

Alexander’s throat tightened. "I miss her every day."

"We all do," Mrs. Evans said softly. She took a deep breath, composing herself. "But we must look to the future now. I’m proud of you for what you’ve done, even though it cost our family dearly."

She glanced at Alexander, her expression shifting to something more hopeful. "Now, when will you bring your wife home? I want to meet Sophia. She sounds like a wonderful woman."

Alexander smiled, the tension in his chest easing slightly at the mention of Sophia. "I’ll bring her this weekend. I think you’ll love her."

Mrs. Evans gave him a knowing look. "Of course I will. If she’s captured your heart, Alexander, then she must be someone special."

---

As Alexander spoke with his grandmother, his mind wandered to the rest of the family. His father, Thomas Evans, had never been much involved in the family business. In fact, Thomas had always been content to live off the family wealth, enjoying the luxuries that came with being an Evans without the responsibility. He was a kind man, but business simply wasn’t his forte. It had been Alexander’s mother who had taken the reins, guiding the company through tough times with her sharp mind and unyielding determination.

But it was this very drive that had put her in Gerald’s crosshairs. She had uncovered incriminating evidence about Gerald’s illegal dealings—evidence that had led to her tragic death. Gerald had orchestrated the whole thing, making it look like an accident, but Alexander had always known the truth. It was that truth that had fueled his desire for justice, for reclaiming the legacy his mother had built.

Thomas, oblivious to the darker undercurrents of the family, had remarried a few years after his wife’s death. His new wife, Helena, was a gentle woman who doted on her stepson, Alexander, and their own child, David. David, Alexander’s half-brother, was currently in university, studying finance but showing little interest in the family empire. He was content to follow in their father’s footsteps—enjoying the wealth without the weight of responsibility.