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Divorced: Ex-wife Heiress Strikes Back
Last Updated : 2026-01-07
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“Sophia! Sophia!!” I dropped to my knees beside her, grabbing her fragile shoulders, shaking her gently at first, then harder, desperate for any reaction. Nothing. Her skin was cold. <<< Clarissa felt her life crumbling right before her eyes. Bruce was responsible for their daughter's death and many things looked planned. Her goal was to find out what happened but she couldn't be in the marriage anymore. What happens when old flames rekindle? Will Clarissa avenge her daughter's death? Who is Clarissa?
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Divorced: Ex-wife Heiress Strikes Back CHAPTER TWO-HUNDRED AND THIRTY-THREE
DEVAN.The day we buried Marcus, the sky stayed stubbornly gray, as if the world itself understood there were no words grand enough for the moment. It came with no dramatic storms, no cleansing rain, just a heavy, muted stillness that pressed against my chest.The funeral was quiet and intimate, exactly as Marcus would have wanted it. Clarissa stood beside me, her hand tucked into mine, our fingers interlaced so tightly it felt like we were holding each other upright. She was dressed in a black flowing gown, simple and understated, her face pale but composed. Only I could feel the slight tremor in her hand, the way her thumb rubbed absent circles against my knuckle whenever the grief surged too close to the surface.The twins slept in their pram nearby, unaware of the enormity of the moment, their tiny chests rising and falling in perfect rhythm. I watched them often during the service, grounding myself in the sight of their peaceful faces.Marcus had died so they could live without f
Last Updated : 2026-01-07Divorced: Ex-wife Heiress Strikes Back CHAPTER TWO-HUNDRED AND THIRTY-TWO
CLARISSA.Outside the hospital room, machines hummed, phones rang, and the nurses and doctors spoke in urgent voices. But inside my room, time had split cleanly in two, becoming fractured and I was suspended in the fragile, breathless space in between.My two tiny miracles lay in my arms, impossibly small and yet impossibly perfect; a boy and a girl. My son slept with his tiny fist tucked beneath his chin, his breathing soft and rhythmic, like he already understood the comfort of rest. My daughter was more curious, her eyes fluttering open and closed as if she were memorizing the world one blink at a time. Their warmth seeped into me, stitching me back together in places I hadn’t known were torn.“Oh,” I whispered, my voice trembling. “You’re real.”Devan sat beside me, one hand resting on my knee, the other hovering as though he were afraid to touch them too firmly, afraid they might vanish if he did. His eyes were red, his face drawn, but when he looked at the babies, something insi
Last Updated : 2026-01-07Divorced: Ex-wife Heiress Strikes Back CHAPTER TWO-HUNDRED AND THIRTY-ONE
DEVAN.The hospital corridors blurred into one endless stretch of white; the walls, floors, and ceilings all bleeding into each other under the harsh fluorescent lights. The air smelled of antiseptic and quiet panic, that strange hospital mix of sterility and restrained fear. I had changed my mind as I climbed into my car and watched the ambulance carrying Marcus leave, and instead of returning home to Clarissa, I decided to accompany the ambulance to the hospital, half praying and half hoping he was still alive. Fortunately, Isabella had driven Clarissa down to the same hospital alongside Freda, all of them oblivious to what had happened. I walked through it like a man already half-buried, my body moving on instinct while my mind fractured under the weight of what I already knew.Marcus Montclair was gone.The doctor had said it gently, like softness could soften death.“I’m sorry,” he had said, hands folded, eyes steady. “There was nothing more we could do.”Nothing more. Those word
Last Updated : 2026-01-07Divorced: Ex-wife Heiress Strikes Back CHAPTER TWO-HUNDRED AND THIRTY
DEVAN.The alarm kept screaming, slicing through the mansion, but even that was drowned out by Clarissa’s cries from the labor room; raw sounds of pain and life colliding. My chest felt like it was being pulled apart in two directions at once.“Devan!” Isabella shouted from down the hall. “Security just flagged another breach!”“I know!” I snapped, my voice hoarse. I stood frozen in the doorway of the labor room, my hands shaking. Clarissa lay on the bed, sweat-soaked, gripping the rails as another contraction ripped through her.“Don’t leave,” she gasped, her fingers reaching for me. “Please—”“I’ll be right back,” I said, lying through my teeth as I kissed her forehead. “I promise. You’re not alone.”Her scream followed me as I backed out, the sound carving something permanent into my bones, then I heard it: a dull, distant crack. It was not the sharp snap of a door nor the sound of a dropped object. That was the clear sound of a gunshot.Every instinct in my body went cold.“What w
Last Updated : 2026-01-07Divorced: Ex-wife Heiress Strikes Back CHAPTER TWO-HUNDRED AND FOUR
CLARISSA.The night pressed down like a weight, thick and suffocating, as we moved through the abandoned warehouse. Every step echoed against the concrete walls, a reminder that even empty spaces could betray you if you weren’t careful. We had cobbled together an alliance forged in necessity and th
Divorced: Ex-wife Heiress Strikes Back CHAPTER TWO-HUNDRED AND TWENTY-ONE
CLARISSA.The silence that followed Freda’s suggestion felt heavier than any sound. It pressed against my chest until breathing became laborious and painful. I sat there with my hands folded over my stomach, as if I could shield my unborn child from the words still hanging in the air. A setup. A tr
Divorced: Ex-wife Heiress Strikes Back CHAPTER TWO-HUNDRED AND TWELVE
ISABELLA.The sand was warm enough to make my muscles forget themselves. That was the point of this place, this narrow crescent of beach hidden between limestone cliffs, reachable only by a footpath that tourists never bothered to finish. The water was impossibly clear, the kind of blue th
Divorced: Ex-wife Heiress Strikes Back CHAPTER TWO-HUNDRED AND FIVE
BRUCE.The acrid bite of gunpowder still lingered in the air, clinging to my clothes, filling my lungs with every ragged breath. It mixed with the metallic tang of Antonio’s blood, sharp and bitter, and for a moment, the sensory overload made me question whether I was alive or merely moving through
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