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Divorced by my Billionaire Ex, Now He Wants Me Back! 68
68Alex.The conference room felt airless, as though the walls themselves were pressing in on me. My legal team sat in their crisp suits around the polished table, laptops open, files stacked, voices calm in that detached, professional way I had once admired but now only found infuriating. They spoke of strategies, procedural delays, possible motions, but every word sounded like another excuse.“So far,” one of them concluded, “the evidence against Sophie remains circumstantial. Without direct testimony, we cannot tie her to the accident or the transfers. And as for custody, the Marwoods have significant influence with the courts in the capital.”I leaned back in my chair, running a hand through my hair. “Influence. That’s your polite word for corruption, isn’t it?”The lawyer shifted uncomfortably. “I’m saying they have resources. Connections. They can muddy the waters until nothing is clear. It’s difficult to fight that kind of machine.”I slammed my palm flat against the table, sta
Divorced by my Billionaire Ex, Now He Wants Me Back! 67
67Stella.The papers from the safety deposit box were spread across the long table in my office. I had set aside the morning to meet with our lawyer, and now every corner of the table was buried in my mothers handwriting, photocopied receipts, and the fragile memory card we had already watched too many times. Seeing my mother’s words this way felt like letting her back into the room. The only thing missing was her perfume, that faint scent of rose and clove that had lingered on her sweaters.Clarke leaned over one of the receipts. She tapped her pen against the date. “These are good. They show money flowing from Marwood accounts into places it shouldn’t have gone. But the problem is provenance. How do we prove your mother got these? Where did she keep them? Were they altered? A court will question every detail.”Josh shifted in his chair, arms crossed. “She hid them because she knew they were dangerous. That should tell the court everything it needs to.”Clarke shook her head gently.
Divorced by my Billionaire Ex, Now He Wants Me Back! 66
66Josh.The files from the box were spread across my desk like the aftermath of a storm. Pages rustled whenever someone moved past, notes scribbled by our mom in that familiar looping hand, faded receipts, photocopied transactions with names I recognized and names I didn’t. My chest felt heavy as I looked at them—because it wasn’t just evidence, it was my mother’s voice echoing back through time, urging us to listen.“Josh,” Stella said softly from the doorway. Her face was pale, but her eyes carried a determination I’d only seen in her when she was fighting for the twins. “Do you think we should take it all to the lawyer now?”“Yes,” I said without hesitation. “The longer we hold it ourselves, the more vulnerable we are. If anything happens, at least the lawyer will have it documented.”Anna, who had been standing over the scanner, looked up. “I agree. But let’s make copies first. We’ll organize them, scan everything, and keep backups in separate places. That way, even if someone tr
Divorced by my Billionaire Ex, Now He Wants Me Back! 65
65Stella.The key was heavier than it looked. I carried it in my purse all morning, the metal pressing through the lining like it was reminding me of its importance, whispering that it carried weight far beyond its size. By the time Josh, Anna, and I stood in the lobby of the old city bank, my palms were damp.The building smelled faintly of polished wood and old paper, its walls lined with brass fixtures that hadn’t been changed in decades. People came and went, most of them rushing, but I felt rooted, as though the tile floor beneath me was holding me in place.Josh checked the paperwork one more time, his jaw tight. “We have everything. IDs, Mom’s old documents showing we’re her children. They won’t have grounds to deny us access.”Anna squeezed my shoulder. “Take a breath, Stella. We don’t know what’s in there yet. It could be something small. It could even be nothing.”But I already knew it wouldn’t be nothing. My mother didn’t leave trails for the sake of drama. Every word she’
Divorced by my Billionaire Ex, Now He Wants Me Back! 64
64AlexI had never felt comfortable in my father’s study. The walls were lined with books that looked more like decorations than sources of knowledge, spines stiff and untouched. The curtains were always drawn too tightly, muting the daylight into something heavy, and the air smelled faintly of cigar smoke, though he hadn’t lit one in years. The room was meant to command authority, but sitting there across from David Marwood only ever made me feel like a boy again, scolded for asking questions that didn’t concern me.He leaned back in the leather chair, polished shoes crossed at the ankle, expression carved in stone. I’d come here with a plan to be calm, to keep my temper under control, to coax something out of him. But the longer I sat, the more that plan frayed.“I’m only asking about Eleanor Harrington,” I said carefully. “You knew her. You knew her family. Don’t pretend otherwise.”His eyes narrowed, just slightly. “I knew of her. That’s all. She was a Harrington, Alex. A woman w
Divorced by my Billionaire Ex, Now He Wants Me Back! 63
63Stella.A call came early in the morning, just after I’d dropped Eli and Emma at school. My phone buzzed with an unknown number, and for a moment I almost ignored it—another reporter, another stranger digging where they didn’t belong. But then I heard her voice.“Stella, it’s Mrs. Greene.”I pulled the car over. “Is something wrong?”“No, child,” she said gently. “But there’s more you need to know. If you can spare the time, come by this afternoon.”Her words carried weight, the kind that pressed against my ribs and made breathing a little harder. I promised I’d be there.***Mrs. Greene lived in a modest bungalow at the edge of town. When I knocked that afternoon, she opened the door with the same soft smile she’d worn the first time we met. Her living room smelled faintly of lavender, old books, and something baking in the kitchen.“Sit down, dear,” she said, guiding me to a worn armchair. On the coffee table was a stack of papers, bound together with twine.I recognized the hand
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