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Chapter Fourteen
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06.08.2025 00:00:00BRUCE.
Walking hand in hand with Freda towards the direction of the company's conference room, my heart began to beat faster in excitement. At long last, I was beginning to make big moves in the tech industry, and with this success, I was very confident that this was just the start of many more wins to come.As I pushed and held the door open for Freda to walk in ahead of me, we stepped into a room filled with different individuals, speaking and chattering amongst themselves in small groups, with champagne glasses in their hands. All eyes began to turn towards us as we went further into the room to mingle with the crowd, and soon, Freda and I had begun exchanging pleasantries and chatting with other attendees.“Hello, Mr Blake,” said one of the men who stood behind me with about three other men in a small circle. “Good to have you around.”I turned in the direction of the voice. “Hello. I don't believe we've met.”He extended a hand. “Lu
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Divorced: Ex-wife Heiress Strikes Back CHAPTER ONE-HUNDRED AND EIGHTY-TWO
CLARISSA.The first breath of open air hit me like a slap, too sharp and too cold after the burning metal stench of the collapsing tunnels. It tasted wrong on my tongue, and it made my lungs ache. I doubled forward, coughing until spots of light burst behind my eyelids. Dust still clung everywhere: in my throat, along my eyelashes, in the cracks of my chapped lips. It felt as though the underground was still inside me, refusing to let go.We stumbled into an open field, or what used to be one. The moonlight showed long patches of dead grass, and the ground cracked from years of neglect. Behind us, the earth trembled again, releasing a groan so deep it vibrated through my ribs. The entire lair was sinking, folding into itself, disappearing like a dying beast trying to swallow its own bones.I blinked through the blur and counted the silhouettes around me. Devan. Freda. Bruce. Marcus, slumped heavily between them. Four. Just four. My chest tightened.I turn
Divorced: Ex-wife Heiress Strikes Back CHAPTER ONE-HUNDRED AND EIGHTY-ONE
BRUCE. My instincts didn’t just rise the moment the ground convulsed under my feet, it detonated. The tremor shot up my legs, rattling through my bones, and before thought could even form, I lunged.Antonio barely had time to turn. I tackled him with the full weight of a man's hours of unresolved fury. We slammed into the metal flooring, dust exploding around us in a choking cloud. The ceiling screamed overhead, sheets of steel peeling away like paper. But I didn’t hear any of it. All I heard was Antonio’s breath hitching beneath me, the small, sharp sounds of a man losing control for the first time.I drove my elbow into Antonio’s ribs, pinning him by sheer force, my teeth gritted so hard that pain shot up my jaw. This wasn't me trying to be strategic; it was something that lived deeper than words, the impulse to end the threat before it could rise again.Antonio writhed, grabbing for leverage, but I slammed him back down, our bodies rolling through debris that cut into my skin.“St
Divorced: Ex-wife Heiress Strikes Back CHAPTER ONE-HUNDRED AND EIGHTY
CLARISSA.The world narrowed to a single blinding point the moment I saw my father tied to that chair. He sat beneath a stark overhead light that carved every line of strain into his face, his wrists bound so tightly the ropes buried themselves into the skin. The others shouted my name, but their voices sounded like they were coming from somewhere far behind thick glass.I didn’t care. I ran.My knees hit the concrete as I skidded to a halt beside him. “Dad—Dad, look at me,” I whispered, grabbing his face as if I could anchor him back into reality. His eyes fluttered open, raw with pain but still trying, always trying, to protect me.“Clarissa—don’t—” he rasped, tugging weakly against the ropes. “It’s not safe—”But I already had my hands on the knots, tugging, clawing, and shaking them with urgency. “I’m not leaving you,” I muttered, my teeth clenched.
Divorced: Ex-wife Heiress Strikes Back CHAPTER ONE-HUNDRED AND SEVENTY-NINE
ANTONIO.I hadn’t tied Marcus to the chair for the sake of a spectacle. Making a spectacle was for amateurs, for sadists, for people who confused brutality for brilliance. I did not need to spill blood to orchestrate a collapse. Pain was messy.But removal?Removal was elegant.Everyone else and everything centered at Marcus, the quiet axis they spun around without ever acknowledging it. Clarissa looked to him for moral grounding. Bruce deferred to him without realizing it, and so was the case with everyone else in their individual ways. Removing Marcus was like removing the center pole of a tent, and I wanted to watch how fast it collapsed.The spotlight overhead buzzed faintly, turning Marcus into a silhouette of stillness and restraint. His head hung slightly, his wrists tied but not painfully, his ankles secured in a way that prevented movement but allowed circulation. He could breathe. He could think. He could speak if he chose to.
Divorced: Ex-wife Heiress Strikes Back CHAPTER ONE-HUNDRED AND SEVENTY EIGHT
ANTONIO.I stood silently behind the reinforced glass of the observation chamber, invisible as I watched the group assemble beneath the failing lights like moths drawn to a dying flame. Clarissa reached Marcus first, her breath sharp, frantic, hitching in her throat the way they always did when fear and responsibility tangled inside her. Bruce hovered a few feet behind, every muscle locked, his jaw grinding, his shoulders squared in a desperate attempt to look unshaken. It didn’t fool me. Nothing about Bruce ever fooled me. Freda trembled like a rattled wire. Devan’s eyes darted everywhere, trying to stitch meaning together from a puzzle with half the pieces missing. Isabella on her own part masked panic with sheer force of will, her spine straight but her fingertips subtly trembling.Perfect. They moved exactly the way I expected them to, exactly where the system predicted they would stand, and exactly how it predicted they would react.I folded my
Divorced: Ex-wife Heiress Strikes Back CHAPTER ONE-HUNRED AND SEVENTY-SEVEN
CLARISSA.I hurried towards Devan first. My knees hit the cracked concrete before I even realized I had fallen. My hands, shaking, filthy, and scraped raw from digging, went straight to his face. Dirt crumbled beneath my palms as I swept it away, revealing bruises, a gash near his brow, and eyes still fogged with the disorientation of someone dragged too close to death.“Hey,” I whispered, my thumb brushing his cheek. “Hey, look at me.”Devan’s breathing came ragged, ripped from deep inside his chest, but he lifted his head anyway. When his gaze met mine, something inside me cinched tight, the way it used to whenever I saw him looking so weak and helpless. His body wavered, swaying toward collapse, and I slid an arm around him instantly.He leaned into me, not fully but enough to remind me that we had both stood for each other, even when everything else fell apart.Behind us, Bruce paced like an animal just releas
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