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Chapter Forty Five

Author: Tee Growrich
last update Huling Na-update: 2025-07-03 01:49:54

Camilla’s POV

It had been a week since the auction.

A week since Richard Anderson reminded me of the man he used to be... the one who could charm with a glance, disarm with a smile, and destroy with a silence.

I hadn’t planned to accept his offer. Not at first.

But then again, revenge wasn’t something you rushed. It was savored.

And what better way to dismantle a kingdom than from within its tallest tower?

So, I called him.

Told him I’d take the job.

His voice on the other end of the line didn’t hesitate. “Good. I’ve been waiting.”

Now, as I walked into Anderson Global Headquarters, I realized just how well he'd built his empire.

The building was sleek, modern, minimalist... white marble floors that reflected the crisp lines of the towering glass walls. A place that screamed control and discipline. Every receptionist was perfectly dressed. Every employee passed by with practiced urgency. It was cold… polished… and so very Richard.

The woman at the front desk looked up and
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  • Dear Ex-wife, You're More Than A Substitute   Chapter Fifty Nine

    After dinner at Richard’s house…I drove in silence, letting the city blur around me as if the night could wash away the burning in my throat. The moment I closed the car door behind me outside Richard’s home, I told myself not to fall apart. Not yet. I could still taste the mango juice. That acidic sweetness clung to my tongue like a warning. It scratched down my throat, curled in my chest like smoke. My body didn’t erupt into a full blown allergic reaction, not because it didn’t try but because I’d prepared. I always prepare. Stacy may think she’s smart, but she’s also obvious. From the moment Caleb told me about her visit to my stepmother’s house, I knew she was digging. That wasn’t curiosity, that was war. And tonight? That was her first strike. A glass of mango juice. So elegant. So simple. So quietly vicious. And yet… it didn’t catch me off guard. Not fully. I’d ta

  • Dear Ex-wife, You're More Than A Substitute   Chapter Fifty Eight

    Aside the location Richard sent, the driveway curved just like I remembered it. The tall pines swayed gently in the breeze, casting shadows across the manicured lawn as I pulled up to the front of the house I used to call home. But I wasn’t here to walk down memory lane, I was here to remind myself why I left it behind. The lights inside glowed like a beacon of the life I once imagined. The life I was robbed of. As I stepped out of the car, my heels tapped against the familiar stone pavement. I inhaled sharply, forcing down the lump rising in my throat. “Get a grip, Camilla,” I muttered under my breath. “This isn’t your home anymore. This is just another battlefield.” Before I could reach the door, it opened... almost like it had been watching, waiting. “Good evening, ma’am,” said the housekeeper. Lydia. The moment our eyes met, her face paled. Her lips trembled. She knew. The sa

  • Dear Ex-wife, You're More Than A Substitute   Chapter Fifty Seven

    Camilla’s POV The next morning, the calm of my day off was quickly replaced by the usual thrum of office life. I arrived work a little after 9 a.m., with Zane dropped off at school and my laptop already buzzing with unread emails. I took the elevator straight up to the executive floor and passed by Stacy’s desk without acknowledging her presence. I felt her eyes follow me, her stare sharp and assessing, but I didn’t flinch. She was still trying to put the puzzle pieces together. Let her try. When I stepped into my office, I was pleasantly surprised to find fresh lilies placed in a glass vase on my desk. A small card was tucked beneath the stem. “You said you liked these once. Thought I’d remind you of that. — R.” My heart stuttered. The handwriting was elegant and deliberate. A perfect match for the man who once whispered he would memorize every piece of

  • Dear Ex-wife, You're More Than A Substitute   Chapter Fifty Six

    Camilla’s POVI wrapped the silk robe tighter around me as I stepped out into the quiet living room, my bare feet brushing against the soft rug beneath me. The scent of fresh jasmine floated through the open window, dancing with the early afternoon breeze. I hadn’t set an alarm. No emails. No morning traffic. Just a day to breathe.A day off work.Christine had taken Zane to the park for a little while he’d been begging to try his new rollerblades and I’d promised not to check emails or draft building layouts for at least one full day. It wasn’t easy; my fingers kept twitching toward my tablet. But I reminded myself I’d earned this.We’d earned this.I was halfway through a cup of chamomile tea, curled up on the couch, when the front door clicked open.Only one person had the key to walk in unannounced.“Caleb,” I called out, straightening a little and tucking my legs under me.“Hey,” his voice floated in from t

  • Dear Ex-wife, You're More Than A Substitute   Chapter Fifty Five

    Stacy’s POVI’d driven for two hours straight without stopping… my heels on the gas pedal, my mind a maze of questions I couldn’t let go of. Something about Camilla Jones felt off. Too poised. Too perfect. Too… familiar.I’d seen her with Richard too many times now. The way he looked at her. The way she seemed to carry pieces of a ghost we all thought was buried.Tessa.No. I reminded myself, Tessa is dead. I made sure of it.But there’s something about the eyes, the way she smiles… polished, professional, but never quite empty. And if there’s even the smallest chance that woman is still breathing, then I need to know what she’s planning.Which brought me here, to a small house tucked away in the quieter part of the city. No cameras, no busybodies. Just peeling paint on wooden walls and the occasional dog barking in the distance.I smoothed out the front of my blouse and stepped out of the car, clicking the door shut behind me with intention. The concrete path leading up to the porch

  • Dear Ex-wife, You're More Than A Substitute   Chapter Fifty Four

    Stacy’s POV I hated the way her name slid off his tongue. Camilla. He said it so casually, like she meant everything, just another architect working on his project. But I could hear the difference. The way his voice softened around her. The way his eyes lit up when she walked into the room. I wasn’t stupid. I’d known Richard long enough to recognize the signs. The quiet interest. The way he lingered around her office. The small smiles he thought no one noticed. And worst of all? She didn’t even try. Camilla Jones waltzed into our world with her tidy little resume and her too perfect curls, like she owned the place. All grace and calm confidence, the kind that made other women shrink in comparison. She didn’t flirt. She didn’t pander. She didn’t need to. Somehow, she still managed to hold his attention without lifting a finger. And he… he kept drifting closer. I saw it in the little things. How he let her son come to work. How he defended her when I pointed it out. How he start

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