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Chapter 53
Data de publicação:
2026-03-24 04:22:55
Último capítulo
Mistaken Night With my Ex-Husband Chapter 54
The siege of Agios Nikolas didn’t start with a gunshot or a theatrical demand for surrender. It started with a chime—the kind of polite, unobtrusive notification you get when someone likes a photo on Instagram. But on this island, in this bunker, that sound was a death knell.Dominic didn’t even have to look at the screen to know the perimeter had been shredded. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at the nursery monitor where Luca and Sienna were finally, mercifully, asleep. The blue light from the tablet etched deep, jagged lines into his face. He looked a hundred years old."He’s live," Dominic said, his voice flat and hollow.I leaned over his shoulder, my incision throbbing with every shallow breath. On the screen, the grainy, high-definition feed of a major news network was broadcasting a "Breaking News" special. There was Julian Sterling, standing on the teak deck of a massive white yacht, the Aegean sun glinting off his perfectly capped teeth. He wasn’t wearing a sui
Mistaken Night With my Ex-Husband Chapter 53
The transition from the soft, rolling hills of Tuscany to the jagged, salt-sprayed isolation of the Aegean was like moving from a dream into a cold, hard reality. We didn't land at an airport. There was no customs line, no passport control, no paparazzi waiting at the gate. There was just a reinforced concrete pad built into a cliffside on a speck of rock called Agios Nikolas.Dominic had bought this island years ago through a Panamanian shell company when he was still the "Ice King," back when he thought he needed a place to disappear if a merger went south or a government collapsed. It wasn't a villa. It was a brutalist masterpiece of glass, steel, and local stone, half-buried in the cliff to be invisible from the sea. As the helicopter rotors slowed to a rhythmic slap and the side door opened, the smell of wild thyme and sea salt hit me like a physical blow. It was beautiful, but it was a lonely kind of beautiful."We’re here," Dominic said, his voice barely audible over the wind.
Mistaken Night With my Ex-Husband Chapter 52
The high from the delivery room is a lying, beautiful thing. It’s a rush of pure dopamine that makes you feel like you’ve conquered the world, but the comedown is brutal. By 4:00 AM, the morphine was starting to wear off, replaced by a deep, throbbing ache in my abdomen that felt like I’d been put back together with rusted staples.The recovery suite was dark, lit only by the soft, rhythmic glow of the monitors. To my left, Luca was a silent, swaddled lump in his clear plastic bassinet, his tiny chest rising and falling in perfect, peaceful intervals. To my right, Sienna was already making her presence known, shifting restlessly and letting out a sharp, tiny huff every few minutes, as if she were offended by the very concept of sleep.I was drifting, that half-conscious state where the shadows on the ceiling start to look like faces, when the door clicked open. It wasn't the soft, measured step of a nurse. It was heavy, fast, and jittery.Dominic walked in. He was still in his blue sc
Mistaken Night With my Ex-Husband Chapter 51
The clinic in the valley didn’t look like the sprawling, glass-fronted medical fortresses in London. It was a converted villa, all terracotta tiles and ivy-covered stone, tucked away from the main road. It was supposed to be the "Nobody" version of a birth—quiet, private, and utterly human. But the second we crossed the threshold, the soft Tuscan charm evaporated, replaced by the sharp, stinging scent of isopropyl alcohol and the rhythmic, electronic whoosh-whoosh of fetal monitors.Dominic was a tether, but a vibrating one. He’d been the picture of zen for three weeks, but the moment he had to trade his sweater for a set of blue surgical scrubs, the "CEO control" started to twitch. He wasn't barking orders at the nurses—not yet—but I could see him reading the monitors over their shoulders, his eyes darting across the flickering green numbers with the same intensity he used to reserve for a collapsing market."Breathe, Seraphina," he whispered, his hand clamping onto mine. His palm wa
Mistaken Night With my Ex-Husband Chapter 50
The three weeks that followed the "Great Abdication" were the quietest, strangest, and most terrifyingly normal days of my life. It was like we’d spent months sprinting through a thunderstorm, and suddenly, the sun came out, but we didn’t quite know how to stand still without the wind pushing against us.The world hadn't stopped spinning, of course. If I glanced at a news app—which I tried not to—I’d see headlines about the "Thorne-Sterling Collapse" or "The Trillion-Dollar Ghost." Investors were still throwing tantrums in London, and Julian was apparently aging ten years a week trying to keep the Sterling Group from being swallowed whole by a Chinese conglomerate. But at the villa, the noise was different. It was the sound of a lawnmower in the distance, the clatter of a wooden spoon against a ceramic bowl, and the rhythmic creak of a rocking chair.Dominic had undergone a transformation that was almost comical to witness. The man who used to command rooms with a single, cold glance
Mistaken Night With my Ex-Husband Chapter 49
The first thing I noticed when I woke up was the light. It wasn’t that sterile, filtered glow from behind the security shutters. It was raw, aggressive Tuscan sunshine hitting the ceiling in wide, golden planks. For the first time in months, the "Blackout" hadn't just been lifted—it had been dismantled. I stayed still for a second, listening. No humming of high-tech jammers. No rhythmic thud of a guard’s boots on the terrace. Just the morning air and the heavy, slow breathing of the man next to me.Dominic wasn't awake, which was a miracle in itself. Usually, his brain starts at 5:00 AM, already calculating margins and predicting market shifts before he’s even opened his eyes. But today, he was dead to the world. His face was buried in the pillow, his dark hair a mess, looking less like a titan of industry and more like a guy who had finally finished a shift that lasted fifteen years.I reached for my phone on the nightstand, then stopped. I didn't want to see it. I knew what was wait
Mistaken Night With my Ex-Husband Chapter 17
Walking away from a ten billion dollar betrayal sounds incredibly cinematic in your head. You imagine yourself head high and shoulders back while you march into the sunset like a girl who doesn’t need a man or his sinister fertility tracking software. The reality however involves a lot more swearin
Última atualização : 2026-03-22Mistaken Night With my Ex-Husband Chapter 12
The terracotta tiles usually felt cool, but tonight, they were slabs of ice, and I was a sun-bleached desert. Everything was too bright, even in the dark. The shadows of the heavy oak furniture seemed to stretch and lean over the bed, whispering in a language I couldn't understand. My skin felt l
Última atualização : 2026-03-20Mistaken Night With my Ex-Husband Chapter 14
If the previous night had been a sugar-coated truce on the kitchen floor, the next morning was a full-scale invasion of logistics. I woke up not to the sound of Italian songbirds or the gentle rustle of olive trees, but to the rhythmic beep-beep-beep of a reversing delivery truck and the aggressive
Última atualização : 2026-03-21Mistaken Night With my Ex-Husband Chapter 18
If I had to rank the most satisfying moments of my life, the top three used to be: getting into my first choice art school, selling my first painting for more than the price of a sandwich, and finally signing those divorce papers. But as I watched Diana Thorne stare at a wooden chair in a tiny Ital
Última atualização : 2026-03-23
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