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Chapter Eighty Nine
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2025-08-28 23:52:22
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Dear Ex-wife, You're More Than A Substitute Chapter Ninety
Richard's POV I was flipping through the structural renderings on my desk, scanning through elevations and floor loads that somehow felt less important now than they used to. My mind had been trailing behind all morning stuck somewhere between the sharp edges of Camilla’s smile and the distant coolness in her eyes lately. Then I heard them. The unmistakable sharp click of heels against marble tiles. Before the door even opened, I already knew who it was. It swung open uninvited, unannounced. Stacy. Her hair was pinned back perfectly, red lips curved into a smug smile like she belonged in that office. She walked in like it was her birthright. “I thought I’d stop by,” she said sweetly, her gaze skating briefly over the papers on my desk before locking onto mine. “Hope I’m not interrupting.” I didn’t bother hiding my irritation. “You always do.”
Dear Ex-wife, You're More Than A Substitute Chapter Eighty Nine
Richard’s POV I didn’t need to shout. I didn’t even need to raise my voice. The silence in my office was already loud enough… the kind that settles just before a storm levels a city. The air was stiff, the weight of betrayal still sitting on my chest like a boulder that refused to move. I had already reviewed the surveillance footage five more times since the celebration. Watched every second of Stacy slipping into Camilla’s office. Caught the moment she removed a flash drive. Saw her tamper with the project folder and leave with that smug, unhurried confidence I had been too blind to see. Stupid. God, how stupid could I have been? The knock on the door was soft. Hesitant. A new assistant peeked in a second later. “She’s here, sir.” Of course she was. “Send her in.” Stacy walked in like she had rehearsed it. Cream blouse. Black skirt. Her hair brushed into smooth waves like she still wanted to play the “polished girlfriend” role. But her eyes gave her away. She l
Dear Ex-wife, You're More Than A Substitute Chapter Eighty Eight
The hallway was silent when I stepped out of the elevator. Almost too silent. Everyone else had already left for the day. A soft glow from the recessed ceiling lights lit the corridor leading to the executive lounge. I’d returned to grab the documents for tomorrow’s press conference… the last batch of press kits had just arrived, and I needed to review them personally. But when I turned the corner, I saw her. Stacy. Leaning casually against the wall outside my office, like she’d been waiting. Arms folded. Lipstick freshly reapplied. That calculating smile barely masked the storm in her eyes. “Late night?” she asked. “Working,” I replied. “Some of us do.” She smirked and pushed off the wall. “Still the perfect one, aren’t you?” I unlocked my office and stepped inside without another word, flipping
Dear Ex-wife, You're More Than A Substitute Chapter Eighty Seven
Richard’s POV The first thing I noticed when I opened my eyes was the sharp sting of daylight bleeding through partially drawn curtains. The second thing? The pounding in my head, like a jackhammer drilling straight into my skull. “Ugh…” I groaned, shielding my eyes with one hand while pushing myself into a seated position with the other. My throat was parched. My limbs were heavy. My mouth tasted like I’d gargled rust and regret. Where the hell was I? I blinked, forcing my eyes to adjust to the unfamiliar room. It didn’t take long to recognize the soft beige tones, the classic hotel carpeting, the tray of untouched water and Advil on the bedside table. I was in a hotel suite. Wearing… a robe? I looked down at myself… my shirt was gone. My pants, too. Hell, even my socks. I was neatly wrapped in a plush white robe I d
Dear Ex-wife, You're More Than A Substitute Chapter Eighty Six
Camilla’s POV The corridors of Anderson Global always had this sterile quiet around noon. Most of the staff were either at lunch or hidden behind frosted glass panels. I preferred it that way… it meant less chit-chat, less curious eyes. I clutched the thin manila folder in my hand… a revised schematic update for project’s upper level eco-balcony integration. It wasn’t urgent, but Richard had asked me to bring it up once it was ready, and I had just finalized it. I figured I’d get it over with before grabbing a late lunch. I adjusted my blazer and nudged his office door open with a soft knock. “Mr. Anderson—” I stopped. Richard was standing behind his desk, one hand gripping the edge, the other fisted in his hair like he was seconds away from ripping it out. His back was half-turned toward me, but I c
Dear Ex-wife, You're More Than A Substitute Chapter Eighty Five
I walked out of the shower, a towel wrapped tightly around my chest, water still clinging to my skin. The room was dim, only the bedside lamb that casted a soft glow across the space. Richard sat on the edge of the bed, scrolling through his phone, but he looked up the moment he heard me. "How do you feel now?" he asked, his voice low. "Better," I said, offering a soft smile... lovely on the outside, hollow on the inside. I waited for him to say something more. Anything. Maybe a mention of the hospital, of Stacy. Something that would confirm the gnawing suspicion crawling beneath my skin. But he said nothing. No tension in his tone. No guilt in his eyes. Just calm, like nothing out of the ordinary had happened while I was gone. I stood there a little longer, expecting... hoping. But still, nothing. He reached over to the nightstand and handed me something. The routine. The pills. "Here," he said. The contraceptives. I took them without a word, but my fingers tighte
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