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CHAPTER ONE-HUNDRED AND SIXTY-TWO
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2025-11-25 05:08:31
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Divorced: Ex-wife Heiress Strikes Back CHAPTER ONE-HUNDRED AND SIXTY-TWO
DEVAN.I woke to the metallic taste of iron coating my tongue and something tacky and half-dried flaking against my cheek. For a moment, the world refused to settle into a single shape. The ceiling above me flickered like bad footage, the light bulging, stretching, and shrinking again. My heartbeat thudded so violently in my ears that I couldn’t tell where the pain ended and where my fear began.I sat up too fast and the room spun before my eyes. My skull felt split at the center; not from the fall alone, but from what clawed in my mind. I still felt that presence… that pressure. It had been scraping memories loose, shredding time until I couldn’t tell what belonged to yesterday and what belonged to some nightmare future.Every blink brought a different flash.I saw Clarissa’s face, wet with tears, her mouth forming words he couldn’t hear. I could see Marcus collapsing on the floor, his eyes already vacant. I saw Bruce’s mansion swallowed in shadows. I also saw Isabella screaming but
Divorced: Ex-wife Heiress Strikes Back CHAPTER ONE-HUNDRED AND SIXTY-ONE
ISABELLA.The Cloak sat across from her with the sort of unbothered calm that made me bothered instead. One leg crossed over the other, his fingers draped lazily along the velvet armrest, his posture relaxed in a way that dared me to challenge him. He didn’t just occupy space; he owned it. He controlled it and manipulated every breath I took inside it.Her voice, hoarse and strained, cut through the thick air.“Who are you?”The words carried more force than I expected. It carried more desperation, too. I hated that. I hated giving him any hint of how deeply the mystery behind him gnawed at me.He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he tilted his masked head as if studying an amusing pet. The silence stretched long enough to feel like a punishment.Then a soft, humorless laugh slipped from under the mask.“If you want my face,” he said calmly, “earn it.”My stomach twisted. He wanted a game. Of course he did. Men like him always did. The kind of men who believed torment was a form of
Divorced: Ex-wife Heiress Strikes Back CHAPTER ONE-HUNDRED AND SIXTY
ISABELLA.I barely remembered the discharge papers. They had been waved in front of me, signed automatically, with the nurse’s voice floating somewhere above my head like a distant radio signal. The hallway spun a little, and the sharp white lights buzzed too loudly. I couldn’t tell if it was the medication, exhaustion, or the lingering fog of trauma that made everything float around me instead of sitting still.But I did remember the man who came to wheel me out. He had broad shoulders, was dressed in a black uniform, had perfectly pressed gloves on, and the letter C stitched into his left sleeve, in crisp white threading.I had tried to speak, tried to dig my nails into the armrests and force myself out of the wheelchair, but my body refused to obey. My limbs dangled like borrowed parts, my voice cracking into ragged breaths. Yet, he never said a word.The man rolled me through the sliding doors, down the ramp, and toward a waiting black van. The moment I saw it, dark, unmarked, and
Divorced: Ex-wife Heiress Strikes Back CHAPTER ONE-HUNDRED AND FIFTY-NINE
FREDA.I felt just the impact at first, the violent jolt that slammed through my body like I had been struck by a hammer. My breath ripped out of me as my knees buckled, and I hit the floor hard. The ceiling spun above me in fractured pieces, shadows smearing into streaks of white. Heat spread across my abdomen, thick and fast, pooling beneath her like a sinking tide. I blinked, dizzy, feeling the warm wetness soak through my clothes before my mind caught up to reality.I had been shot.A sound tore through the room, and I realized belatedly it was Alexandro. He materialized from the corner like a nightmare spilled into the waking world. His face, always so calm even in crisis, had collapsed into terror. He dropped to his knees beside me, hands trembling as they pressed desperately over the wound.“Freda—Freda, stay with me. I’m so sorry. I’m so damn sorry.” His voice was cracking everywhere, splintering under panic.I wanted to answer him, to say something cutting or sarcastic or jus
Divorced: Ex-wife Heiress Strikes Back CHAPTER ONE-HUNDRED AND FIFTY-EIGHT
CLARISSA.My fingers dug into the doorframe hard enough to make my knuckles ache, but it was the only thing keeping me upright. My legs felt numb, my lungs tight, my pulse hammering in frantic bursts that refused to settle. I sensed Bruce behind me before she heard him. It was the shift in the air; the sudden drop in temperature, the suffocating heaviness that always arrived like a warning whenever Bruce decided to ruin something. I didn’t want to turn around. I already knew what would be waiting for her. But I turned anyway.And there it was, exactly what she expected. Exactly what I feared. The same thing that sickened me.A gun.Bruce held it steady with both hands, the barrel leveled directly at my heart. His hands didn’t shake. He had just the same composure he had once used in their marriage to mask the rot underneath his skin.The sight didn’t shock me. I had lost the privilege of shock years ago, but it hollowed my chest, scraped something raw inside me that I had been trying
Divorced: Ex-wife Heiress Strikes Back CHAPTER ONE-HUNDRED AND FIFTY-SEVEN
BRUCE.I didn’t see her until it was too late. One second the road ahead was empty and then the next, a blur of white blouse and frantic movement burst out from between the trees. I slammed the brakes so violently the tires screamed, the car almost fishtailed, my seatbelt carving a bruise across my chest. The hood clipped the running figure with a sickening thud before the car finally came to a stop.Heart pounding and hands trembling, I shoved the door open and stumbled into the night air.I had expected a stranger. A drunk or a terrified runaway, probably. Anything or anyone other than the woman lying crumpled on the asphalt. But when the headlights swept over her figure, the breath strangled in my throat.Clarissa.Her body was twisted awkwardly on the ground, her hair fanned out across the pavement like a dark halo. She wasn’t moving. She was just barely breathing, her chest rising in shallow, uneven pulls of air. Her skin was ghost
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