Game Over, Mr. CEO: Your Wife Is Done (Winter and Chris) novel Chapter 238

Chris’s dark eyes stayed on Winter.

After asking that question, she fell silent. She only glanced at him once before looking away. Her eyes were already red, and now they looked even redder.

The courtyard went still.

Then Chris’s phone rang, sharp and jarring in the silence.

His gaze shifted from Winter’s face. He pulled out his phone and looked at the screen. There was no name saved, but it was a number he had remembered by heart over the past year. His eyes stilled.

That side never called him unless it was something serious.

His fingers tightened slightly around the phone. His face went tense, and he strode toward the garage as he

answered it.

Winter stood in the cold wind in the middle of the courtyard and heard the roar of an engine from the garage. A dark blue sports car shot past her and sped out of Blackwood Manor.

She watched the taillights disappear into the distance and slowly curled her fingers into her palms.

A second later, her phone chimed.

She looked down and saw a message from Zac. Just five words.

“I can’t let you go.”

After the Maybach left Blackwood Manor, it headed straight for the Davis family estate.

In the back seat, Zac pressed a hand to the gunshot wound in his chest. His face was pale as he stared at Winter’s profile picture pinned to the top of his chat list. It had originally been a little clay fox. A few days before he came back to the country, she had changed it to a patch of blue sky.

After sending the message, he hadn’t expected a reply. He knew her well enough to know she wouldn’t answer.

He looked at it for a moment, then quietly backed out of the app, opened his call log, and dialed the number that had called him an hour earlier.

The phone rang three times before the call connected.

Zac looked out at the night beyond the car window. “Skyla, thank you for calling to tell me something had happened to Winnie.”

But before the person on the other end could respond, his usually gentle voice turned cold.

“But this is where you stop using me.”

Someone knocked on the door.

“Come in,” she said.

The door opened. Winter turned to look. The soft glow of the floor lamp beside the sofa wrapped her in a quiet

warmth.

“Mr. White.”

Mr. White walked over carrying a glass of hot milk and set it on the coffee table in front of her.

When he spoke, his voice was slightly hoarse. “You skipped dinner. Should I have the kitchen make you something light? Or I can send someone out to get one of your favorite late–night snacks.”

Winter set her phone down and shook her head. “I’m not hungry. I just want to sit here for a while.

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