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045

Auteur: Cersei L.
last update Date de publication: 2026-09-05 18:08:06
Diego's POV.

Arnold had suggested the bar, which in hindsight I should have taken as a warning. Arnold's “suggestions” tended toward the kind of places that looked understated from the outside and weren't.

It was a Wednesday, which should have meant quiet.

It didn't. The bar was bustling with people and music and so many chatters.

I found a seat at the far end of the counter, away from the crowd thickening near the entrance, and ordered something and sat with it. Arnold had gone to find someone
Cersei L.

Oh, Diego Rookwood.😮‍💨

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  • Marrying the Tyrant: You Will Regret Killing Me, Ex-Husband!   090

    Lily’s POV. The emergency board meeting at Vance Global was scheduled for 8:00 AM.By 7:45 AM, the executive boardroom was packed. The heavy doors were shut tight, seeming like a corporate trap. At the head of the long table sat Richard Vance, wearing a bespoke charcoal suit that cost more than anything a man of his standing should be earning, had my mother been alive. His face was carefully schooled into an expression of grim, burdened leadership. But upon zooming into the live feed through one of the hacked cameras, I could see the dark circles that formed under his eyes.A small victorious smile formed on my lips as I watched. Behind him stood his loyalists—mostly older executives who owed their positions to decades of looking the other way.Richard checked his watch, a tight, self-satisfied smile playing at the corners of his mouth. Less than hours after “forcing Lily Rookwood into a humiliating public retraction”, he was moments away from delivering the killing blow. One sign

  • Marrying the Tyrant: You Will Regret Killing Me, Ex-Husband!   089

    WRITER'S POVThe digital haunting didn't begin with a loud crash or a falling stock ticker. It started with a quiet, bone-chilling glitch in the middle of the night, slipping through the high-grade security systems like a ghost.Inside his sprawling penthouse overlooking Central Park, Richard Vance was fast asleep. Or he had been, until 3:14 AM.Without warning, the smart thermostat in his master bedroom plummeted sixty degrees in three seconds, turning the air instantly biting and freezing. Goosebumps erupted across his arms. He stirred, pulling the heavy duvet tighter around his shoulders, muttering a curse about a system malfunction.At the exact same second, the sound system built into the mahogany walls crackled to life.It didn't play music.Instead, the speakers began to emit a low, rhythmic scratching noise—the ghostly, crackling sound of an old vinyl record playing a children's lullaby. The exact lullaby Diane Vance used to hum to her daughter Lily, years ago, back when their

  • Marrying the Tyrant: You Will Regret Killing Me, Ex-Husband!   088

    Lily’s POV.The safe house was too quiet.Upstate, hidden by a dense wall of tall pines and heavy fog, the modern glass cabin felt less like a fortress and more like a tomb. There was no bustle of city traffic, no distant sirens, no familiar clatter of coffee cups from the studio.Just the steady, monotonous patter of rain against the bulletproof glass.I sat at the minimalist kitchen island, a cold mug of black coffee clutched between my hands, staring at the glowing screen of the mounted television. On the display, the public retraction I had signed earlier that day played in a continuous loop on a financial news channel.“..Vance Global confirms that prior statements regarding asset mismanagement were unfounded, and Frank has been fully reinstated to his executive duties..."The anchor’s voice spoke smoothly, announcing my doom the same way he would the weather. I watched myself on the screen. My voice had been steady, my posture composed, my expression hollow. I had handed them a v

  • Marrying the Tyrant: You Will Regret Killing Me, Ex-Husband!   087

    Lily’s POVThe hospital room smelled of alcohol and medicine. I hated that smell.I pushed the door open, my hand trembling slightly as I stepped into the quiet ward. Nate was awake. He was propped up against the pillows, his face still pale, but his eyes were open, blinking slowly against the bright overhead lights.Simon sat beside the bed, holding a cup of lukewarm water with a straw, gently helping Nate take a small sip."Ann," Simon whispered, his eyes widening as he spotted me in the doorway. He set the cup down and stood up quickly. "You're here. We thought you went home to get some rest."I walked over to the side of the bed, forcing a weak smile to my face, though my stomach was tied in knots. "I just needed some air. How are you feeling, Nate?"Nate managed a small, raspy cough, his voice cracking. "Like I swallowed a chimney, Ann. But... but I'm okay. The doctor said my lungs are clearing up." He looked past me, his gaze landing on the doorway.Diego stepped into the room,

  • Marrying the Tyrant: You Will Regret Killing Me, Ex-Husband!   086

    Lily’s POV.The phone lay face down on the wet pavement, its screen cracked. Richard’s voice was still faintly tinning out of the speaker before the call dropped dead.My chest heaved. The stench of burning wood and thick black soot burned the back of my throat. Around me, high-pressure water hoses thundered against the brick walls of what used to be my safe space, turning the street into a muddy, freezing river."Lily! Look at me."Diego’s hands gripped my shoulders, pulling me back from the police tape. His dark eyes were wide, scanning my face, checking for shock."Nate and Simon," I choked out, my teeth chattering so hard I could barely form the words. "They were inside. Diego, they were inside—""They're alive," a voice panted. I whipped around. Simon was stumbling out from behind a fire truck, his face streaked with black soot, his clothes singed at the sleeves. Paramedics were right behind him, wheeling a gurney.On the stretcher was Nate. His eyes were closed, his face deat

  • Marrying the Tyrant: You Will Regret Killing Me, Ex-Husband!   085

    Lily’s POV.The interrogation room smelled of bleach and stale coffee.Frank sat across the table, his face a mess of purple bruises and dried blood. The designer suit he wore at the gala, which he’s still wearing, was torn."Lily," Frank croaked, trying to stand up, his cuffs clanking. "You have to tell them to drop the charges. Rich... Richard will destroy you if you keep this up—"I didn't answer. I just watched him through the glass partition, my arms crossed over Diego's jacket, feeling a cold, hard satisfaction in my chest. It felt good watching him sealed away from me, and I couldn’t wait to have him sealed away forever.My phone buzzed. A restricted number.I swiped the screen and put it to my ear. "Who is this?"“Lily, my dear," Richard’s voice purred through the speaker. “Let's be pragmatic. You have my associate locked in a cell, and my stock is dropping. Drop the charges, and we can negotiate a peaceful handover."A bitter laugh escaped my lips."Negotiate with you, Richar

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