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CHAPTER NINETY-FOUR

Penulis: Authoresstreasure
last update Terakhir Diperbarui: 2025-10-14 05:36:11

ISABELLA.

I had always known Bruce would betray me, that he would want to double-cross me and make his own moves. It wasn't a question of if, it was when. Power never really shared itself, it only waited for the perfect opportunity to turn. I had learnt that lesson early enough, watching men like Bruce rise on ambition and rot on arrogance. So when news got to me that he had begun to be seen again — alive, kicking, making moves and rebuilding, it didn't come to me as a surprise. I only felt disappointed because for once, I thought I would be proven wrong. But I guess my predictions were always right.

I smiled when I got the news, not because I was amused but because it was time to begin my calculated moves. Bruce's return to the game had changed everything, not in ways that frightened me, but because somehow, it seemed to bring the world back to focus. The balance had shifted again with his return, and I knew exactly how to use it.

My next move began quietly in a dim cafe in a forgot
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  • Divorced: Ex-wife Heiress Strikes Back   CHAPTER ONE-HUNDRED AND TWENTY-TWO

    FREDA.I had always considered myself to be the architect of control; the woman who never blinked, who never faltered. Fear was a tool I wielded with precision, a weapon I had sharpened across years of calculated dominance. It was something I gave, never something I felt. But that night, as rain whispered against the windows of my study and the amber of my whiskey reflected the low light of my desk lamp, I felt it for the first time. It felt like a pressure in the air, an unease that threaded beneath her skin.The silence was wrong, too deep and too deliberate for how alert I was. It was the kind of quiet that wasn’t emptiness, but watchfulness. The kind that signified a pause before something moved.My study was immaculate, every document stacked in surgical order. I was reviewing a dossier on Bruce’s last known financial transfers when something broke the rhythm — a flicker at the edge of my vision. It was a single envelope, resting in the center of my desk, perfectly aligned, as t

  • Divorced: Ex-wife Heiress Strikes Back   CHAPTER ONE-HUNDRED AND TWENTY-ONE

    BRUCE.The challenge came softly, too softly..“If you want freedom, you’ll have to earn it,” the cloaked figure said, his voice low, steady, and unbothered. “No weapons, no tricks. Just a fight.”The words hung in the air, almost absurd in the calm of the room, and for minutes, none of us said a word.My chest rose and fell in shallow, measured breaths, each one heavier than the last. The air in the room was cold, damp, laced with the metallic sting of rust and old blood. My wrists were raw where the cuffs had bitten into my skin and my whole body was battered. Something still burnt within me, beneath all of that, and I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of tagging me a weakling.I didn’t wait to think. I lunged.The first strike was wild, a blur of muscle and fury, but my jab met nothing but air.The cloaked figure moved like smoke, taking a quick sidestep and a twist. I heard a brutal crack next as he had my arm wrenched behind my back, slamming me to the ground. Pain flared

  • Divorced: Ex-wife Heiress Strikes Back   CHAPTER ONE-HUNDRED AND TWENTY

    CLARISSA.I stood for some minutes before I ran after her, stopping her just before she got into the elevator. “Isabella!” I called out, my voice slicing through the cold air.She froze, turning to face me.“Can you say what you said again?” I asked. She repeated herself, her words cutting through the composure I was struggling so hard to maintain since the boardroom erupted. She revealed that Bruce hadn’t disappeared, and that he was taken. And that sent chills down my spine.For a long time, I simply stared at Isabella, waiting for her to laugh, to twist the knife further the way she always did. But her face didn’t move. There was no smirk, no taunting glint in her eyes. Just quiet certainty, and beneath it, something that looked like fear.My pulse began to thunder, though my voice came out cold and even. “You’re lying.”“I wish I were,” Isabella said softly.My hands curled into fists. Isabella must really have taken me for a joke. “You think you can walk in here, throw around yo

  • Divorced: Ex-wife Heiress Strikes Back   CHAPTER ONE-HUNDRED AND NINETEEN

    CLARISSA.The boardroom had always been my fortress. Its clean lines, glass walls, and quiet hum of central air had once symbolized control. It was a place where my word carried weight, where my father’s legacy felt like something I could still hold together. But this morning, the room was suffocating. The walls seemed to pulse with the tension of the people seated around me, every whispered exchange like the hiss of leaking air from a pipe.I sat at the head of the long, gleaming table posture perfect, my eyes fixed on the screen in front of me. Slides flashed—profit margins, shareholder reactions, market projections but none of it mattered. My body was here but my mind wasn’t.I couldn’t stop replaying the last time I had seen Devan through the cold glass at the prison. His eyes—tired, searching, but still clinging to something like faith in me. It haunted me. Bruce’s disappearance on the other hand pressed harder with every passing hour. He was powerful, yes, but not untouchable. A

  • Divorced: Ex-wife Heiress Strikes Back   CHAPTER ONE-HUNDRED AND EIGHTEEN

    BRUCE.I had lost count of the days or weeks maybe, that I had spent here. The damp air clung to my lungs, heavy with rust, sweat, and the faint metallic tang of blood — my blood. My wrists were torn raw beneath the cuffs that chained me to the iron chair, each movement scraping flesh against steel. Every breath I took sounded too loud, bouncing off the concrete walls of the small, windowless room. There was no clock, and there was no single source of light. The only thing I heard that tethered me to reality was the slow drip of water echoing somewhere behind me, marking time in astonishing irregularity. I had stopped shouting after the first few hours. Yelling only wasted my strength and I never wasted what I could use later. Still, the silence pressed down like a weight, suffocating in its patience. It wasn’t fear that kept me quiet now. It was calculation.Someone wanted me alive, I knew that for sure. The bruises on my ribs, the precision of my restraints, and the untouched food

  • Divorced: Ex-wife Heiress Strikes Back   CHAPTER ONE-HUNDRED AND SEVENTEEN

    CLARISSA.The prison always smelled the same — of bleach and rust, a sterile mix that clung to my clothes long after I left. I moved through the metal detectors with practiced calm, though my pulse betrayed my composure. The guard at the end of the corridor nodded, unlocking the door to the visitation room.Inside, the light was pale, flickering, and buzzing overhead like an anxious thought that wouldn’t fade.And then I saw him.He sat behind the glass, his shoulders slightly slumped, his hands folded on the table. His eyes lifted slowly, and for a moment, neither of us moved. The world outside—the reporters, the verdict, the whispers of Bruce’s disappearance, all of it dissolved into the sound of my heartbeat pounding in my ears.When I finally crossed the room and sat down, the chair scraped loudly against the floor, breaking the silence.“Clarissa,” Devan said first, his voice rough from days of incarc

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