My Coldhearted Husband'S Regret novel Chapter 94

94 Mr. Newman’s Verdict, Damien’s Game

“Well then, I suppose Mrs. Chen’s pot roast will make a lovely lunch tomorrow,” she said, wrapping the container and placing it in the refrigerator,

I shook my head. “That doesn’t make sense. How would he even know-

My blood ran cold. Julian’s expression darkened.

“What?”

“No” I said quickly. “No problem at all. We’ll send you the revised proposal by Friday.”

I nodded, grateful she didn’t press for details. “Eleanor, Damien mentioned he might

not be home tonight.”

“Is there a problem?” Mr. Newman asked, his tone curious.

“He’s replacing me in every aspect of his life,” I whispered.

Later that night, after putting Cora to bed, I checked my email one last time. Julian and I had submitted our project proposals to Me Newman yesterday, and I was anxious for his response. Mr. Newman was a legend in the Al world–the creator of the Chap programming language that revolutionmed machine learning. His approval could make or break our project.

My heart skipped. I put the phone on speaker and mouthed “It’s him” to Julian.

I straightened in my chair, determination replacing the initial shock. “You’re right. I’ve been distracted, but no more. Thus as may feld, my passion. I won’t let anyone–not Damien, not Wivienne–push me out of it”

I shook my head. I’m starting to think-

The puzzle pieces clicked into place. This wasn’t just professional sabotage. This was Damien trying to hand Vivienne the keys to the kingdom,

“To be blunt, Ms. Vance, you’re slipping The conceptual foundation is still strong, but the executios lacks your usual ngor I remember your doctoral thesis–it was meticulous. This proposal shows flashes of that brilliance, but it’s inconsistent.”

My phone buzzed with a text from hulian: “Any word from Newman?*

54 Mr. Newman’s Verdict, Damion’s Game

“You look exhausted, he said, sliding one cup toward me.

“I see,” I managed.

“I should have expected this,” I said. “Vivienne has a PhD in behavioral psychology with a focus on computational models. Her thesis explored emotional response patterns in human–computer interaction.”

Morning came, and Damien hadn’t returned. I wasn’t surprised.

“Work, I assume,” I replied, the lie coming easily. I didn’t have the heart to tell her that her beloved grandson was likely spending the night with my half–sister.

After dropping Cora at school, I drove to YodaVision’s offices. Julian was waiting for me in the conference room, two cups of coffee on the table.

“I understand,” I said. “I’d appreciate any specific feedback you can offer so we can strengthen the proposal.”

After the call ended, I sat motionless, staring at nothing.

Julian paced the small conference room. “And Damien’s pushing her career now? Using his connections to get her in front of Newman?” He stopped abruptly. “Wait, Newman said Damien contacted him yesterday. Right after we submitted our proposal.”

Julian and I exchanged excited glances.

“No, it isn’t,” Mr. Newman agreed. “This industry waits for no one. Talent wasted is opportunity lost.”

I tried to sleep, but my mind kept spinning between thoughts of Damien with Vivienne and anxiety about Mr. Newman’s verdict. When I finally, drifted off, my dreams were a jumbled mess of code and whispered conversations.

“That manipulative bastard,” Julian muttered.

“I wasn’t aware you knew Damien,” I said carefully.

“Ms. Vance? This is Edward Newman.”

I stood in the kitchen, phone still warm in my hand after calling Damien. Eleanor’s hopeful expression had faded when I told her he already had dinner plans, but she recovered quickly.

12:19

2/5

94 Mr. Newman’s Verdict, Damien’s Game

Jullan’s Jaw tightened. “Did he mention who?”

I’m not suggesting, I’m stating: Damien knew about our submission to Newman. He’s deliberately putting Vivienne in direct competition with you”

“I just realized–Newman created Cuap. The programming language that Vivienne has been trying to incorporate into her research for years.” His eyes met mine, blazing with anger. “Motherfucker! Damien’s not just introducing her to a potential investor–he’s connecting her with the one person who could give her access to proprietary code that would advance her research by years.”

Her eyebrows rose slightly. “Qh? Did he say why?”

“Thank you,” Julian and I said almost in unison.

“Finish your homework first,” I said, smoothing her hair.

“Thanks for noticing,” I said dryly, taking a grateful sip.

Julian’s response came quickly: *He’s thorough. Give him time.*

Julian grinned. “That’s what friends are for.” His expression turned serious. “Still nothing from Newman?”

“Hello?” I answered.

“Think about it, Elara. The timing is too perfect. We submit to Newman, and suddenly Damien arranges a dinner to introduce Vivienne? He’s playing games.”

Julian sat down beside me, his expression fierce. “No, he’s trying to. But he can’t replace your talent, your insight. Newman called you because despite his criticisms, he recognizes your brilliance. We’re going to fix this proposal, and we’re going to blow Vivienne’s ideas out of the water.”

His words stung because they were true. I’d let my personal life affect my work. Years of focusing on being Damien’s wife had dulled my professional edge.

“I’ve attached my notes to an email. Your core idea has merit, which is why I called personally rather than sending a standard rejection. Refine it, tighten the framework, and we can discuss potential collaboration.”

“While I have you,” Julian added, “we’d like to invite you to dinner next week to discuss the revised approach. Are you available?”

12:19

3/5

04 Mr. Newman’s Verdict, Damien’s Game

The realization hit like a physical blow. This wasn’t just about Damien choosing Vivienne in our marriage–now he was actively working to elevate her in my professional sphère too.

Heat crept into my cheeks. “I appreciate your candor, Mr. Newman.”

Cora tugged at my sleeve. “Mom, can I have ice cream after dinner?”

Julian’s phone dinged with an email alert. He scanned it quickly. “Newman’s notes are here. Let’s get to work.”

I replied: *Nothing yet. Getting nervous.*

Vivienne. Of course.

Elara’s POV

My phone rang, cutting me off. Unknown number.

“A Dr. Dubois, I believe. A researcher with a background in behavioral analysis and machine learning.”

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