Where Destiny Forgot Us 20

Where Destiny Forgot Us 20 Summary

Chase’s mood darkens when he learns from his assistant that Nora is closely involved with Dominic Faulkner, his rival, and has even filed for divorce. In denial and furious, Chase refuses to accept the reality, violently tearing up the divorce papers and insisting that as long as he doesn’t sign, their marriage remains intact. His desperate conviction that Nora still belongs to him highlights his refusal to let go, despite clear evidence to the contrary.

 

That evening, Chase’s facade breaks down as he succumbs to alcohol and overwhelming regret. He reflects painfully on how he neglected Nora throughout their marriage, failing to appreciate her sacrifices and love. Haunted by memories of their wedding and her unwavering support, he realizes his blindness and selfishness. His sorrow turns to a twisted resolve: if he can punish Camila, the woman he blames for driving Nora away, he believes Nora will forgive him and return.

 

Meanwhile, at the Faulkner Estate, Nora finds a rare moment of rest before waking to Dominic’s proposal to form an alliance against Chase. Dominic, the CEO of the rival Faulkner Group, offers Nora a chance to work together, recognizing their shared enemy. Though cautious, Nora agrees, understanding the strategic advantage. Dominic’s unexpected concern for her well-being contrasts with their tense circumstances, and he invites her to join him at the upcoming bidding conference where Chase will likely be present. The chapter closes with an uneasy alliance forming amid the brewing conflict.

Chapter 11

A shadow fell over Chase’s face, his mood turning grim in an instant.

“Dominic Faulkner? What on earth is she doing with him?” he demanded, his voice thick with disbelief and anger.

His assistant paused, clearly uneasy before answering.

“Sir, it appears they’re… quite close. Their behavior doesn’t suggest mere friendship. Do you think… Mrs. Whitmore might have moved on from you?”

With a sudden, furious bang, Chase’s fist collided against the nearby column, the sound echoing sharply through the room.

“No way!” he roared. “She’s my wife! She wouldn’t just up and run off with someone else!”

The assistant cautiously handed over a folder, his expression tense.

“But sir… she filed for divorce just a few days ago. The paperwork’s all here—assets, custody arrangements, everything clearly detailed.”

Chase snatched the file from his hand and skimmed through the pages, his eyes blazing with fury. Without a second thought, he hurled the folder across the room.

“No!” he shouted, voice cracking with denial. “She would never divorce me! Nora loves me! She can’t live without me! She wouldn’t abandon me—never Nora. Not ever.”

“S-Sir, the documents are—” the assistant tried to reason, but Chase cut him off before he could finish.

With a sudden, violent movement, Chase tore the divorce papers into tiny shreds.

“If I don’t sign, we’re still married. She’s still mine,” he muttered, eyes shining with desperate conviction.

“Yes, that’s right. As long as I refuse to sign, the marriage stands. She can’t escape me.”

He clenched his fists tightly, his voice growing louder, more determined.

“I don’t care if she hides at the ends of the earth—Nora Langston belongs to me. Always has. Always will.”

—

That evening, Chase’s laughter broke through the heavy silence—shaky, hollow, and unhinged. It quickly gave way to sobs that wracked his body.

He collapsed onto the floor, utterly drunk, his mind clouded by regret and pain.

Glass after glass of whiskey slipped down his throat, each burn mingling with tears until he could no longer tell the difference between the two.

A crushing wave of remorse engulfed him, twisting his gut with unbearable sorrow.

Why hadn’t he stopped Camila from hurting Nora? Why had he treated his wife as if she were invisible, as if she didn’t matter at all?

He had once believed Nora would never leave him, no matter what happened. But now he realized he hadn’t just been wrong—he had been blind.

Half-dreaming, half-lost in the haze of alcohol, flashes of their wedding day flickered through his mind.

Back then, his company was teetering on the edge of collapse. Nora had brought a third of the Langston family’s shares into their marriage, single-handedly saving his empire from ruin.

She never bragged about it. Never once used it to control or manipulate him.

To the outside world, she always insisted she had married for love. But Chase knew the truth.

What kind of love had he ever given her in return?

Throughout all those years, he had never remembered their anniversary, never once celebrated her birthday.

He had never paid attention to her moods, her needs, or even the way she liked her coffee.

Nothing.

She had gone to great lengths to plan little surprises for him, but he always found an excuse to bail.

“I’m busy,” he’d say, too caught up in his own world to notice her efforts.

He was garbage. And deep down, he knew it.

Suddenly, through the fog of shame and intoxication, a thought struck him—

Nora was just angry. That was why she left.

She was furious that he had ignored her, furious that he had invited Camila into their home.

If only he cut Camila out of their lives and proved he was sincere, Nora would come back. She had to.

Driven by that desperate hope, Chase stumbled to his feet and grabbed his phone.

“Find a few guys. Kidnap Camila,” he ordered, voice cold and unyielding.

“Make her kneel for five hours. Then dump her in the lake. Then—”

“Then soak her with freezing water. And get someone to sleep with her.”

His tone was cruel and steady, devoid of hesitation.

“Film everything. I want Nora to see it. It’s the only way she’ll forgive me.”

He hung up, already imagining Nora’s forgiveness.

She would watch the footage, come running back like she always did.

She loved him that much.

She would be thrilled that he had punished Camila.

She’d return and be Mrs. Whitmore once again.

Chase raised his glass and kept drinking, shot after shot, chasing the illusion of redemption.

—

Faulkner Estate

Upstairs, in the master bedroom, Nora finally slept through the night.

After all she had endured, a rare moment of peace settled over her.

As dawn broke and she began to stir, Dominic entered quietly, holding a document.

“This is the bid proposal the Whitmore Group is fiercely competing for. Want to take a look?” he asked.

“Sure,” Nora replied, accepting the folder and immediately scanning it for weaknesses in the Whitmore plan.

From the moment she had arrived at the Faulkner Estate, Dominic had been direct.

“I’m CEO of Faulkner Group—your ex-husband’s biggest rival,” he had said.

“We share a common enemy. Interested in forming an alliance?”

Without hesitation, she had agreed.

The enemy of her enemy was her ally.

Dominic had studied her for a moment, his eyes dark and unreadable, before nodding.

“Pleasure doing business.”

“Pleasure,” she answered.

They shook hands, but her palm burned fiercely, and she quickly withdrew.

She thought she heard him chuckle softly, as if in an oddly good mood.

“Your injuries—any lingering pain?” Dominic asked suddenly, breaking the silence.

Nora paused, unused to his concern.

“Oh… better. I’m fine now,” she said.

He gave a slight nod.

“You know the Whitmore Group better than I do. I want you by my side at the bidding conference.”

Nora hesitated.

“Will Chase be there?”

“Very likely,” Dominic confirmed. “But I’ll be there too.”