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Chapter 44
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2025-08-21 22:48:50
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Married to my ex-husband's boss Chapter 79
Raymond I stood by the closet, tugging on my jacket, the sound of the zipper slicing through the silence of the room. The tension between Elle and me was becoming frustrating. It seemed like my attempt to keep her safe was tearing us apart and ruining our marriage. But, I had no choice. I needed to protect her from anyone who would want to hurt her. I stole glances at Elle a few times. She was propped up against the pillows, a book balanced in her hands. The morning light streamed through the curtains, softening her profile, but there was nothing soft in the way she turned each page—quick and sharp, as if the words were nothing more than an excuse not to look at me. She hadn’t said much all morning. No small remarks about breakfast. No smile when I had tried to catch her eye. The silence clung heavier than any fight we had ever had. “I have to go somewhere. But I’ll be back as soon as I can,” I said softly. She gave me nothing but a faint hum in reply, her eyes never leavin
Married to my ex-husband's boss Chapter 78
ELLE The next morning, I tried not to make it obvious, but my eyes kept trailing after Raymond. Every move he made pulled at me like a thread I couldn’t stop tugging. I told myself I was only being cautious, watching for a slip, but the truth was harder—I was starving for answers, for anything that would quiet the gnawing in my chest. He moved through the penthouse like it was just another morning. The rich smell of coffee drifted from the machine as he poured it into a mug, steam rising against the glass windows. He scrolled casually through his tablet, the faint glow reflecting in his eyes. He even dared to smirk at me, like nothing in the world was wrong. “Elle,” he said, voice low and teasing, leaning his hip against the counter. “If you keep staring at that croissant like that, it’s going to start telling you its secrets.” I glanced down. My butter knife hovered midair, pressed against the same spot of bread I hadn’t managed to spread for the past five minutes. Heat crept up
Married to my ex-husband's boss Chapter 77
ELLEParis was like stepping into a painting.Every corner of the city glittered with life—cobblestone streets glistening under morning light, flower boxes spilling color from iron balconies, the scent of butter and bread drifting from little cafés. My heart felt too big for my chest as I darted from shop window to shop window, fingers brushing against racks of silks and lace, my laughter spilling into the air like I was a child again.“Elle,” Raymond called from a few steps behind me, his voice low and teasing. “Slow down, you’re going to wear yourself out before lunch.”I spun around, hair whipping across my face, and grinned at him. “I can’t help it. Look at this place! The fashion, the food, the architecture—it’s like every dream I ever had is here.”He tucked his hands into his pockets, watching me with an amused patience. But beneath the cool exterior was warmth, something that wrapped around me stronger than the Parisian air. “It’s not the city that’s breathtaking,” he murmure
Married to my ex-husband's boss Chapter 76
ELLEThe first thing I noticed when I woke up was the quiet.I rolled over, stretching my arm across the sheets, but the space beside me was cold. Raymond hadn’t been in bed for a while. My chest tightened just slightly. He never left without saying something—not unless something was weighing heavily on him.But these days it had been different. I pushed the covers aside and sat up, brushing a strand of hair away from my face. Maybe he was in the bathroom. I padded across the carpet and cracked the door open, half-expecting the sound of running water.But the bathroom was empty. The mirror was spotless, no fog, no steam clinging to the glass.“He didn’t even shower in here…” I whispered to myself.A knot formed in my stomach, but I shook it off and turned the faucet on. I took off my clothes. The water warmed quickly, spilling over my skin. I leaned against the wall of the shower, letting it wash the sleep away.Memories tugged at me, uninvited but vivid.Another morning, months ag
Married to my ex-husband's boss Chapter 75
RAYMONDRichard blinked, confusion cutting through his arrogance.“Yes,” Elle continued, her tone sharpening, “a toothpick I used to pull out the real rot stuck in my teeth. And when I was done, I didn’t just throw you away. I broke you. Shattered you into something smaller than you already were. And I’ll keep breaking you, Richard. Again and again, until your life is nothing but a miserable echo of what you want it to be.”Richard’s face twisted, rage flooding his features. He lunged forward across the table, but the cuffs yanked him short. “You ungrateful little—!”“Sit back!” one of the officers barked, forcing him into the chair again.Melody finally broke, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Elle, please! It wasn’t me. I didn’t want to do any of this. It was Richard—he forced me. I swear!”Elle didn’t even look at her. “You stood by him. You watched. You helped. That was your choice.”“Elle—” Melody sobbed, but the officer yanked her to her feet, ignoring her protests.Another offi
Married to my ex-husband's boss Chapter 74
RaymondThe woman stopped midway down the path, then turned back. Elle didn’t even have to call her again—the woman’s feet strolled as if some thread had been tugged. When she reached us she looked like a person who had been holding her breath for a long time, lips pulled into a grim, rehearsed smile that had finally given up.Elle stepped forward, eyes boring into the woman as if she could force the truth out with pressure alone. “When we were in Mr. Hart’s office,” she said, her voice low. “Someone was eavesdropping in the corridor. I didn’t see their face. I wasn’t looking. But I remember the trousers—brown cotton, worn at the knees. Not staff, not a delivery uniform.”The woman’s hands trembled. Her eyes dropped to her legs as if seeing them for the first time—to her brown pants—then wandered up to the name tag pinned to her blouse. Michelle Hart, it read in a small, tired font.The small, ugly thing inside me that catalogues people’s tells straightened like a hunting dog. Clinto
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