I Let Him Choose His Ex This Time Chapter 06

I Let Him Choose His Ex This Time Chapter 06

Cressida’s POV 

By the time Gavin’s car pulled up to the Beaumont mansion, night had completely fallen. 

The moment I pushed the door open, my father Laurent stood up. 

He didn’t ask if I was hurt. He didn’t ask how I survived the last few days. His eyes scanned my torn clothes as he fired his first sentence: “You let Lysander take Evangeline instead of you–what is in your head?!” 

I stopped in my tracks. 

“Cressida,” my stepmother Rosalie chimed in, her tone gentle but her blade sharper. “You aren’t a child anymore; you need to think about the consequences. If the Corleone family calls off the engagement over this, do you know how much money we’ll lose?” 

stood under the foyer lights, studying their faces. 

In my father’s eyes, I saw disappointment, rage, and sheer calculation–everything but relief that his daughter was alive. 

I felt suddenly very calm. Calmer than I ever expected I walked over and sat in an armchair. “I have something to say too. The engagement–I’m not marrying him.” 

The air in the room froze instantly. 

My father slapped the coffee table violently, his porcelain teacup jumping. “What kind of nonsense is this?! A man like Lysander–where else are you going to find one?! He gets results, he’s bringing our two empires together, and all you have to do is be a wealthy socialite. What’s wrong with that?!” 

“Be a wealthy socialite.” I repeated softly. “That’s what you both thought all along, right? I’m not marrying a man; I’m marrying a contract.” 

Rosalie sighed. “Cressida, don’t let your emotions—” 

“I am not marrying Lysander,” I cut her off, my voice steady and deliberate. “I don’t care about the 

succession lineage or how much profit he brings you. If you love him so much, you marry him.” 

My father went from flushed to pale, standing under the chandelier like a cracking clay statue. “What- what the hell are you implying?!” 

I’ve made myself clear.” I stood up. “I’m not harrying him. Goodnight.” 

I walked upstairs, went inside my room, and shut the door, locking the roaring and slamming out. 

The next morning, when I came downstairs, they were sitting on the sofa again. 

Seeing me, Rosalie looked like she wanted to say something, shooting a glance at my father. My father scoffed, remaining silent for a moment as if doing some grueling mental math, before lowering his voice: 

“If you want to break the engagement, we won’t stop you. But from now on, you’re on your own. Don’t look to us for help.” 

I froze for a second. 

The concession was surprising, yet totally predictable. 

They didn’t feel sorry for me; they were just cutting their losses. Better to let me go than let my rebellion drag them down. 

I stood on the stairs, hand on the railing, staying quiet. 

My mind drifted to a night years ago. 

I was living alone in a tiny, north–facing apartment on the east side of the city. My father called casually to say he was attending Raphael Corleone’s birthday Banquet. Hearing the name “Corleone“-Lysander’s grandfather–my heart skipped a beat. 

asked him to take me with him. 

My father went silent for two whole seconds. Perhaps he was just shocked I had asked for something. He eventually said, “Fine.” 

The banquet hall that night was dazzling. I found an opening, approached Lysander, and made small talk Raphael watched the whole exchange. Before the night ended, Raphael called me over, held my hand, and warmly asked if I’d be willing to be his grandson’s wife. 

I remember how my heart raced–fast, chaotic, almost embarrassed. 

That was the one time in my life I genuinely felt I had grabbed onto my own little piece of luck. 

Now, I was handing it right back. changed my clothes and drove to the Corleone estate. 

In the Corleone living room, Raphael sat in his usual high–backed armchair. Lysander stood by the window, with Evangeline hovering nearby. She quickly looked me up and down before darting her eyes away. 

Before I even stood still, Lysander marched over and seized my wrist. 

“You’re calling off the engagement for Gavin Volkov?” he hissed, his eyes burning with something chaotic. 

idea what you’re doing?” have you Do any Raphael looked up from his chair. “Cressida, sit down. 

“His voice was old, but steady. “If you have grievances with Lysander, speak your mind. I’m listening.” 

I looked down at my trapped wrist, then up at Lysander. I didn’t speak. I just waited. 

He stiffened, then let go. 

I sat opposite Raphael. “Mr. Raphael, I came here today to tell you in person–I want to annul the engagement.” 

Lysander’s voice slashed through the room behind me. “On what grounds?!” 

“Because,” I turned to him, my voice completely flat, you don’t have me in your heart, and you know it.” 

He froze, then protested, “You were the one who told me to take Evangeline first-” scoffed out loud. “I told you, that was a test.” 

He opened his mouth but couldn’t find the words. 

Silence blanketed the room. Raphael let out a long sigh. “I heard what happened.” He looked at me, genuine pity in his eyes. “Child, if your mind is made up, I won’t force you to stay.” 

“Grandpa-!” 

Lysander aggressively cut in, turning to me. His eyes were like steel, emphasizing every word. “I disagree.” 

I stared at him. 

A knew this face too well. In our past life, he waited five years for Evangeline, valuing her above his own

life. Yet in this life, when I willingly stepped aside and handed the position back, he was gripping tightly. I didn’t know what his endgame was, and I was done guessing. 

“Lysander,” I stood up and headed for the door. “If you don’t agree, I’ll go to the press tomorrow and publicly annul it. I don’t care how badly it ruins both our families‘ reputations.”