You're Just My Ex-Husband,My Lord-Chapter 45- Did she find someone else?

Dave’s expression was beyond difficult to describe.

His tightly pursed lips curled into a cold, sinister smile that sent chills down anyone’s spine.

So this is what her "good friends" were really like—just after the divorce, they were already trying to pair her up with that Leonardo guy?

He snorted.

No wonder she had been so eager to divorce him; it turned out she had a backup plan.

Dave had always considered himself to be calm and rational, but in that moment, it felt as if his brain had shut down. He grabbed Laurent’s phone, held down the voice message button, and coldly spoke into it:

"I’m Dave."

As soon as those words left his mouth, the group chat fell into an eerie silence. No one replied for a long time.

Finally, Vivian snapped back into reality and angrily confronted him:

"Dave? What the hell are you doing? Why do you have Laurent’s phone? You two are divorced!"

Vivian’s reminder that they were divorced might have been unintentional, but as soon as it was said, Dave felt a surge of anger and frustration. He smirked darkly and responded:

"She’s in my bed right now, exhausted and asleep."

Then, he pressed the power button, turning off her phone, and tossed it aside, starting the car and driving off.

His deliberately ambiguous, provocative words sent the three girls on the other end of the phone into a frenzy. They were so furious, it felt like they might explode.

Even Zoey, who was usually calm, couldn’t hold back her anger, raising her voice to accuse him:

"Dave, you’re despicable!"

However, none of their accusations reached Dave. They were left seething with frustration, unable to contact Laurent, and all they could do was stare at their phones, helpless and infuriated.

Dave had only been driving for a short while when he received a call from his friend at the police station. The details about Laurent’s taxi route were now clear, and Dave felt a sense of relief. According to his friend’s report, it seemed that Laurent had returned to her parents’ small town.

After hanging up, he immediately called Morrison. Morrison informed him that he was at the nearby golf course, so Dave made a quick turn at the next intersection, heading directly toward him.

Morrison was known as a notorious playboy—charming, smooth-talking, and able to make any woman feel like she was the only one in the world. When he had a woman in his grasp, she was always soft, sweet, and utterly devoted.

Dave was there to seek Morrison’s advice on why his relationship with Laurent had become so strained, with every encounter turning into an argument.

When Dave arrived at the golf course, Morrison had just finished a game and was resting with a beautiful woman in his arms. The woman was sitting on his lap, feeding him a cherry as if the two were glued together.

Dave frowned slightly at the sight. He knew Morrison well enough to understand that he was not fond of these playful displays of affection. The public often labeled him as a "celibate god," and he always kept a clean image when out socializing. If any business partner tried to offer him a woman, he would immediately reject the gesture with a cold face.

But despite all of that, Morrison was the one who had been divorced.

It was clear he hadn’t wanted the divorce.

Morrison gently patted the woman’s shapely rear and smiled warmly.

"Sweetheart, I need to discuss something with the Lord Washington. Wait for me outside, okay?"

The woman obediently stood up, blowing him kisses as she left the room. Dave couldn’t help but feel a chill down his spine.

Morrison lounged lazily on the couch, casting a glance at Dave, whose face was grim, his brows furrowed tightly.

"Aren’t you supposed to be at a meeting this morning?" Morrison asked, his tone casual.

This morning, there had been an important business meeting in the city, a gathering of the influential figures in the area. Most of the prominent people in town had attended. But Morrison, as usual, had little interest in such formalities, choosing instead to come here and play golf.

However, as the leader of the business world in the city, Dave had also skipped the meeting, which seemed odd.

Dave didn’t respond. Instead, he walked to the lavish minibar in the corner of the luxurious lounge, poured himself a drink, and downed it in one go.

Morrison’s gaze shifted to the two phones resting on the table, one of which was clearly a woman’s. He raised his sharp chin toward the phone, eyebrows quirked in silent question.

"What’s this about?" he asked.

"If I remember correctly, that phone should belong to your ex-wife, Miss Laurent."

The last time Morrison had been scolded by Laurent at the door, he had made a mental note to refer to her properly as "Miss Laurent" from then on. The casual use of her first name could easily slip out again, and he wasn’t eager to face the awkwardness of being reprimanded a second time.

Morrison knew how to hit people where it hurt, and using the word "ex-wife" struck a nerve with Dave. He spun around and shot him a glare so fierce that Morrison felt an instinctive shiver run down his spine.

Morrison raised his hands in mock surrender, feigning innocence, but it only made Dave more irritated, prompting him to down another glass of whiskey.

Finally, Dave sat down, clearly agitated, and began recounting his actions at the airport. He spoke of how their relationship had drastically changed ever since Laurent had brought up the divorce, how the atmosphere between them had become filled with tension and hostility. He even mentioned the slap she gave him, the bottle of water thrown at him, and their constant fighting and bickering.

Aside from Morrison, there was no one else Dave could confide in. This was a deeply private matter, and admitting it out loud felt humiliating.

Morrison, on the other hand, had a hard time containing his laughter. His face was red from holding it back, clearly struggling to maintain his composure as Dave poured his heart out.

After a sharp glance from Dave, Morrison finally lost control and burst into laughter. He simply couldn’t fathom the image of Laurent treating the usually composed Dave with such brutality, especially when Laurent had always been regarded by their circle as the epitome of a gentle, graceful wife and mother.

Dave, feeling both humiliated and enraged by Morrison’s laughter, stood up as though to leave. Only then did Morrison manage to control himself, wiping away the tears from his eyes, though he couldn’t resist a final chuckle.

"You want to ask me why she treated you like that?" Morrison said, his voice barely stifling his amusement.

Dave paused, his back still turned. Morrison, sensing his moment, threw out the blunt truth.

"It’s simple, really. She doesn’t love you anymore."

Dave’s face darkened even further.

Morrison, paying no attention to Dave’s growing anger, pressed on, adding fuel to the fire.

"A woman goes from being obedient and adoring to indifferent, and then to physically confronting you with anger? That’s pretty clear—she doesn’t love you anymore."

"If she loved you, how could she bear to treat you this way?"

Morrison’s words struck a chord deep within Dave, his self-esteem taking a heavy blow. For someone who had been so deeply admired and loved for five years, hearing such words from his best friend was devastating.

Unable to take it any longer, Dave turned to leave.

Morrison, sensing the gravity of the situation, quickly got up and blocked Dave’s way, now serious.

"Wait, hold on. What exactly happened between you two? I was overseas on business, and when I came back, I find you heading to get a divorce..."

Morrison and Dave had been friends for a long time, both successful in their own right, but their personalities couldn’t have been more different.

Dave was calm, composed, and pragmatic, while Morrison was the epitome of carefree and playful, with a bit of a devil-may-care attitude.

Though they often worked on joint projects, their roles were distinct—Morrison handled the social and public aspects, the charming face of their ventures, while Dave was the mastermind, handling the strategy and operations behind the scenes. Both were incredibly successful, but their ways of working—and living—were starkly different.

Morrison had been away on business for over two weeks, working on a foreign investment project. When he returned, he was shocked to hear that Dave was getting a divorce.

Morrison had been meaning to ask Dave for the full story, to offer some advice, but the night he returned, he had been too drunk to do much of anything. The next day, he tried to get Dave to open up, but was met with a wall of silence.

Morrison, ever the carefree soul, had shrugged it off. He believed that perhaps this was just fate, something that couldn’t be avoided.

"Everything happens by fate, nothing is truly within our control," he often told himself.

Dave glared at him, the frustration and anger bubbling to the surface.

"If I knew the reason, would I even need to ask you?" he shot back, his words laced with frustration.

The night before the grand banquet, everything had seemed fine between them. But the very next day, during the event, she had dropped the bombshell—she wanted a divorce.

Morrison, always the one to dig deeper, raised an eyebrow and looked at Dave, his expression knowing.

"Did she find someone else?" he asked, the question hanging in the air.

The question hit Dave like a punch in the gut. His mind instantly went to that one name—Leonardo.

A chill ran down his spine as the thought lingered in his mind. Could that be it?