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CHAPTER ONE-HUNDRED AND TWENTY
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2025-10-29 17:12:10
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Divorced: Ex-wife Heiress Strikes Back CHAPTER TWO-HUNDRED AND EIGHTEEN
DEVAN.The moment Alexandro’s name crystallized on my screen, something in me fractured. It wasn’t loud or dramatic. It was a quiet, internal snap, the kind you don’t feel until you realize you can no longer put yourself back together the way you were before.Up until then, the attacks had felt like an elaborate puzzle. Brutal and infuriating. But puzzles were my domain. Markets moved for reasons. Systems failed because of variables. Even sabotage followed patterns. I had told myself that if I stared long enough, ran enough simulations, pushed enough countermeasures, I would find the seam, the weakness. Now I understand the truth. There was no seam.My monitors glowed in the half-dark of the study, numbers scrolling too fast to fully process, red bleeding into red. Losses stacked atop losses: accounts frozen in Singapore, a fund collapsing in Zurich, a merger imploding hours before final signatures. Every alert felt like a small, precise cut. T
Divorced: Ex-wife Heiress Strikes Back CHAPTER TWO-HUNDRED AND SEVENTEEN
BRUCE.I stood at the floor-to-ceiling windows of my penthouse, a glass of untouched whiskey in my hand, and surveyed what was mine. The lights below pulsed like a living organism: arteries of traffic, clusters of power, nodes of influence. People liked to think cities were chaotic. They weren’t. They were systems. And systems, once understood, could be controlled.I felt it then, a deep, bone-settling satisfaction.The chaos I had unleashed wasn’t random. It was deliberate. Orchestrated. Every faltering stock price, every collapsed deal, every nervous boardroom whisper was a note in a symphony I had composed with care. Devan Owen’s empire was cracking, just as I had predicted. It was not shattering, not yet. Watching a structure collapse too quickly was dull. The beauty lay in the slow realization, the dawning horror as he understood that every move he made only tightened the noose.Marcus Montclair, for all his bluster and legacy, was
Divorced: Ex-wife Heiress Strikes Back CHAPTER TWO-HUNDRED AND SIXTEEN
DEVAN.Sleep had become a luxury I no longer trusted, one I could no longer afford. Even when my body gave in, my mind kept working: running numbers, replaying conversations, mapping invisible threats. Bruce had turned my life into a battlefield without borders, and the worst part was the silence. There were no demands from him. No ultimatums. Just loss after loss, precise and merciless.The legal routes were dead ends. I had exhausted them early, clinging to procedure and precedent the way drowning men clung to driftwood. Complaints vanished into bureaucratic voids. Regulators who once welcomed my calls now responded through assistants, if at all. One senior official had met my eyes across a polished table and said, almost apologetically, “There’s nothing actionable here, Mr. Owen.”Nothing actionable. As if the collapse of my empire were a coincidence.The hemorrhage continued. Markets turned hostile overnight. Credit tightened. Long-t
Divorced: Ex-wife Heiress Strikes Back CHAPTER TWO-HUNDRED AND FIFTEEN
CLARISSA.The knowledge that Freda was willing to help should have brought relief but instead, it settled over me like a second shadow; long, cold, and impossible to shake.I had always known Bruce was dangerous. I had felt it in the way conversations bent around him, how rooms seemed to recalibrate when he entered. But Freda’s calm, almost clinical assessment stripped away whatever illusions I still clung to. Bruce wasn’t just powerful. He was embedded, rooted deep inside systems designed to protect people like him and devour people like us.That truth changed everything.Isabella and I sat across from each other at the dining table long after Devan had gone upstairs, the house quiet except for the low hum of the security system. The fragile alliance between us felt like glass; necessary, sharp, and liable to cut us both if mishandled.We started cautiously.At first, it was logistics. Timelines. Names spoken carefully, as thoug
Divorced: Ex-wife Heiress Strikes Back CHAPTER TWO-HUNDRED AND FOURTEEN
CLARISSA.The doorbell rang once, soft, polite, and almost hesitant. I was in the sitting room, hands folded over my stomach, trying to read the same paragraph for the fifth time without absorbing a single word. Devan was on a call upstairs, his voice low and clipped, the sound of it carrying faintly through the ceiling like a warning hum. The house had settled into that uneasy quiet that comes when everyone is braced for something they can’t yet name.I wasn’t expecting anyone.When I opened the door, Isabella stood on the threshold, the sunlight at her back, her shadow stretching into the foyer like something tentative and unsure of its welcome.She looked… different. She didn’t look like her usual polished self. There was no armor of sarcasm or carefully arranged chaos. Her hair was pulled back loosely, her clothes practical, her face drawn in a way that spoke of long nights and longer thoughts. She held herself still, as if any sudden movement might send me slamming the door in he
Divorced: Ex-wife Heiress Strikes Back CHAPTER TWO-HUNDRED AND THIRTEEN
DEVAN.The mansion no longer felt like a home. It felt like a perimeter. I noticed it the first morning after the rooftop incident, standing barefoot on marble that used to gleam with quiet luxury and now felt cold, exposed. The ceilings were too high, the windows too wide, every entrance too generous. What once read as elegance now looked like vulnerability disguised as wealth.Security had become my watchword.By noon, half the house had been rewired. Motion sensors layered over motion sensors. Cameras stitched into corners that architecture pretended didn’t exist. Blind spots eliminated, then re-eliminated, because I didn’t trust the first pass, or the second. If Bruce was watching, I wanted him to choke on redundancy.Clarissa hated it. She didn’t say it outright, but I could feel it in the way her shoulders tensed when another technician walked past, or when the quiet was broken by the soft chirp of a system recalibrating. She carried life inside her now, and the world had respon
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