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CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
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2025-09-13 00:06:00CLARISSA.
I could hardly contain my excitement. The presentation had gone so well and the contract had gone through seamlessly — way swifter than I expected. The investors had not only signed the deal with eagerness, basking in the assurance that I’d given them a smooth working relationship with us, but they had also commended my charisma during the presentation, something that made me feel like the happiest lady on earth. It was the first time in a long while that I felt seen, not as someone’s daughter or as someone’s wife, but as someone who was her own force.
As I walked out of the conference room with Devan walking closely beside me, the corners of my lips curved into a victorious smile. “We did it!”
He let out a laugh. “Nope, you did it. You were really fabulous back there and that was an excellent presentation, Rissa. I told you you would ace it, didn’t I?”
Bab terbaru
Divorced: Ex-wife Heiress Strikes Back CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE
DEVAN.I sat alone in my study, staring at the photograph in my hands for the hundredth time. Whoever had taken the picture had taken it from a very good angle, and everything about the picture showed details. The timestamp on the picture was even more shocking, showing the exact time Clarissa had stepped out of my apartment that night. Precise, accurate, and unmistakable. The photographer had been close enough to have taken the photo without being seen, close enough to have his message delivered without a trace.“I’m being watched now?” Clarissa had asked when the email had come into her laptop, just before I’d instructed that she be escorted safely back to her residence.“Not you, Clarissa. We are being watched, both of us,” I replied, staring at her laptop’s screen in shock. And that alone terrified me more than anything. Our moves, apartments, routines — everythin
Divorced: Ex-wife Heiress Strikes Back CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO
CLARISSA.Weeks had passed since the blast, yet the lingering stench of the blast had refused to leave. A faint, ghostly smell of burnt rubber, metal, and the smell of the heat that came with the flames. I had spent the days having myself doused in soapy hot water baths, scrubbing my skin raw and cycling through every single fragrance of perfume I owned, yet the smell still haunted me like a memory that couldn't be flushed.Devan, being extra careful and not willing to take any chances, had doubled my protection after the explosion, his elite and smart security detail tightening around me and gradually becoming a part of my daily routine. I still had a car parked a few doors away from mine, and then another at my garage, at the beginning of the street where my apartment was situated, and a tough-looking security official manning my door. I had tried to protest the irrelevance of his security measures which I saw as too much, but he had turne
Divorced: Ex-wife Heiress Strikes Back CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE
ISABELLA.The news outlets and every media and gossip blog buzzed with the news of the blast, with images of flames licking the shattered convoy trending all over. Reporters across different news media had a field day speculating who must have been behind the attack on the Montclair heiress, wondering if it was a business or political rival, or some sort of vendetta.I took a slow sip from my mug of coffee as I stood by the window of my office, positioned amongst the top floors of the very tall office building. I inhaled deeply as I looked over the stretch of the city in my view, and for the first time in a long while, I felt a deep sense of satisfaction. Though Clarissa had survived the blast, the chaos surrounding the incident had painted a perfect picture for public doubt. The public’s perception of Clarissa now was that she was a walking target — vulnerable, dangerous to be around, and risky to support and be associated with.
Divorced: Ex-wife Heiress Strikes Back CHAPTER SIXTY
DEVAN.The smell of smoke still clung to the jacket I wore, a reminder of the ugly incident that had almost stolen Clarissa from me and which could have… no, would have taken her life. I hadn’t spoken much about it since it happened, and after I’d personally driven Clarissa back home, placing her under serious watch and making sure she was medically okay, the images from the crash kept replaying in my mind like an unpleasant reel... the patrol car which had engulfed in flames, the screech of tires on the ground as the cars braked sharply, Clarissa’s place face as she stumbled out of the wreck and collapsed into my arms, and the dark figure I had seen watching calmly across the street before he mysteriously disappeared.Now, hours later, I paced about the security room of one of my underground safehouses, and as I moved to and fro the ends of the room restlessly, I stared straight at each of the members
Divorced: Ex-wife Heiress Strikes Back CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE
CLARISSA.I spent the entire night feeling restless, tossing and turning on the bed as I thought about my conversation with Devan earlier that evening. I wouldn’t say that I couldn’t see reasons to every security measure Devan was trying to put in place for me, and God knows I really appreciated every single move he made for me, but somehow, despite the very obvious danger signs we saw, I still felt unfazed and insisted on my refusal to be confined to a place and watched over by a multitude of security officials. He had suggested talking to my father and asking him to speak to me himself, if that was going to make me listen to him, and I’d been against the idea, making sure to make him promise not to say a thing to my father. The Marcus Montclair that I knew would go way beyond even what Devan had done, and before I knew it, I would be moving around with at least ten men before and behind me, just so my safety would be assured.
Divorced: Ex-wife Heiress Strikes Back CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT
CLARISSA.“Devan?” I said, looking at him in surprise as I let him in. “What’s up? You didn’t tell me you were coming.”He walked in past me into the apartment, running a hand through his hair.“Is everything okay?” I asked him, narrowing my eyes as I looked at him.“Everything’s fine,” he replied, walking to the armchair and sinking his weight into it. “How are you?”I walked to the bar and picked a bottle of whiskey with two glass mugs which I placed on the small side glass table between his chair and mine. “Well, except for my constant displeasure at that car you have parked and monitoring me, I’m good.”He sat up from his reclined position and popped the bottle of whiskey open, pouring himself a generous shot and some for me. We clinked our glasses
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