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CHAPTER EIGHTY-TWO
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2025-10-04 00:14:00DEVAN.
I woke up with a heavy feeling in my chest that I couldn't explain. It wasn't pain, at least not the physical kind. My wounds had begun to knit together, and my body slowly continued to heal. I felt a tension coiling between the surface of my skin, my mind constantly reminding me that danger was close and lurking around the corner, that the air had changed, and that I needed to be actively alert.
I tried to shake the thought off as much as I could, and in an attempt to distract myself, I got off the bed, deciding to get myself a mug of hot coffee. I stretched lazily as I stood, picking my phone from the bedside table as I walked out of the room.
I unlocked my phone and checked my call logs, and yet there was still no call or text from Clarissa. It had been five days since we last spoke, and the last time, she had just come around to pick up a document she urgently needed. She politely and artfully dodged my invita
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Divorced: Ex-wife Heiress Strikes Back CHAPTER NINETY-ONE
BRUCE."Freedom!!” I grinned at my reflection from the tinted window of my car.The papers, everything was cleared, just like she promised and now I was a free man.I stepped out of confinement not as a broken man, nor as some hollow echo of the person they thought they could break. No one breaks Bruce — no one. And now? I was sharper, my edges honed by silence, by boredom, by rage that had nothing to do with mercy.Every second, every fucking day spent locked away had been a lesson in patience, a reminder that the world didn’t give—you took. And I had learned the hard way.Clarissa. Her name rang in my head, taking a deep breath as I relished this moment of utter bliss.I knew exactly what everyone wanted, what was expected — a stumble, or a misstep, a fucking weakness.They would get none of it.
Divorced: Ex-wife Heiress Strikes Back CHAPTER NINETY
ISABELLA.I pushed the door to my father's study open without knocking, because why should I? The room belonged to him on paper, but in truth, it was mine the moment he let his greed outpace his judgment. My heels hit the polished floor, each step a warning bell. I carried the weight of my schemes like a crown, invisible yet heavy enough to bend anyone else.But not me. Never me.The stack of documents slapped down onto his desk, papers fanned like a deck of cards I already knew how to play. Every single one of those papers bore his signature, his little flourish of ink binding him tighter to me. He had thought he was clever once, thought he was maneuvering me into his pocket. Poor man. What he didn’t realize was that every stroke of his pen had been another chain around his own throat.His eyes flicked down at the pages, his jaw tightening. "What is this supposed to be? A parade of signatures you tricked me into?"I let a slow smile curl at the corner of my mouth. "Not a trick, Dad.
Divorced: Ex-wife Heiress Strikes Back CHAPTER EIGHTY-NINE
CLARISSA.I tossed and turned on the bed that night, sleep eluding me completely no matter how hard I tried. The night weighed in on me like a suffocating blanket, and my mind looped on every single scenario that had played out since the genesis of my chaos. Devan's words — we've got to be very careful around her, I don't trust her at this point rang in my ears again, and my mind drifted to my father's cryptic remarks about loyalty and betrayal the last time I'd met with him, and then to Isabella's soft voice when she made the comments and asked the questions I had found all suspicious.At this point, it felt like I didn't have a family anymore, like I belonged nowhere, because everyone around me seemed to be lying to me, seemed to be pulling their own strings and playing their own games, including the people closest to me.I finally fell asleep very late into the night, after hours of endless thought, and my eyes fluttered open as the rays of the morning sun filtered through my curta
Divorced: Ex-wife Heiress Strikes Back CHAPTER EIGHTY-EIGHT
CLARISSA.The night felt heavier than usual, and with the incident that had happened earlier at Devan's, I found myself regretting deeply why I hadn't said anything to Devan earlier than I did, the relief of sharing what I knew with him quickly replaced by the ache of what I had kept back, still. Devan, on the other hand, had refused to take a moment's rest, pressing into every lead, making calls and seeking answers even more than I did as if his wounded body wasn't already paying a steep price. I watched him with quiet torment, my chest tightening with guilt each time I saw him wince. It was my chaos that had followed him to his home, my storm that had scarred his flesh, and yet, he kept moving like nothing had happened, like nothing could stop him.I leaned against the doorway of his study, watching him pace about restlessly. The light was low, a single desk lamp casting long shadows across the walls. He held a file in one hand, flipping from page to page. It was as if he hadn't n
Divorced: Ex-wife Heiress Strikes Back CHAPTER EIGHTY-SEVEN
DEVAN.I was done. I had had enough of waiting and hiding and watching the shadows curve around Clarissa’s life, and in extension, into mine. The memories of every single scenario since the start of this whole drama were still fresh, and then the incident at the hospital, the fake nurse who had come in under the pretense of administering a follow-up medication, the ruffle I'd had with the two men who had suddenly come in, and then Clarissa's scared look when she finally arrived. I just couldn't erase all of that easily from my memory. I could still remember the guilt I had seen in Clarissa’s eyes from keeping her meeting with Bruce away from me, and though she had apologized over and over for dragging me into this, the deed had already been done. I was already fully dragged in.Right now, I have to make a move, and the first would be confronting Marcus Montclair himself.***I sat in the living room of the Montclair Mansion, the air thick and silent. The house was silent and there se
Divorced: Ex-wife Heiress Strikes Back CHAPTER EIGHTY-SIX
ISABELLA.I arrived at the gates of the Montclair Mansion a few minutes past midnight, and as I drove towards the car park, I made a silent prayer within me, hoping that my father was already asleep. I climbed the short stairs that led to the entrance and pushed the door gently and quietly, tiptoeing to avoid any form of noise that would attract attention to me. The living room was empty as I stepped in, and I heaved a sigh of relief as I went into the kitchen to have some water before I headed upstairs to my room.I heaved an exhausted sigh as I stepped into my bedroom, shutting the door tightly behind me. I tossed my purse on the dresser and sank my weight into the armchair placed a few meters away from my bed, extremely tired from the long hours of driving. The words of the cloaked figure rang through my mind again as I replayed the sequence of my meeting with him, the phrase ‘use the most efficient seed of doubt this time’ re-echoing more often than any other thing he had said all
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