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CHAPTER 13
Last Updated:
2025-02-18 23:41:00
Latest chapter
My Billionaire Ex-husband Won't Call It Quit CHAPTER 144
Coleman Manor Bunker – 00:17 Hours The glass pod hissed open with the sound of escaping steam, releasing a cocktail of medical vapors and ozone that made the air taste metallic. Michael stepped out—barefoot, clad in medical whites that seemed to glow under the harsh fluorescent lighting of the underground facility. His movements were jerky like a puppet learning its strings, each step calculated but somehow off-rhythm, as though his consciousness was still settling into its borrowed flesh. Griffin pressed himself against the cold concrete wall, watching in horror as his father—or what remained of him—tested the limits of his reconstructed form. The man who emerged from the pod bore Michael Coleman's face, but everything else was wrong. The way he held his shoulders. The subtle cant of his head. The predatory stillness that had replaced his father's characteristic restless energy. "You look... disappointed," Michael rasped, his voice carrying harmonics that hadn't been there befo
My Billionaire Ex-husband Won't Call It Quit CHAPTER 143
Medbay – 1 Week Later Griffin woke to sunlight and silence. The first thing he noticed was the absence—no whispers threading through his thoughts, no phantom code fragments suggesting tactical analyses of every face that entered his field of vision. The second thing was the warm weight of natural light streaming through the medical bay's reinforced windows, painting everything in shades of gold that seemed almost impossibly clean after days of artificial illumination. No whispers. No phantom code. No sense of sharing headspace with a predator who wore his father's face. Just the gentle hum of medical equipment and the sound of someone snoring in the chair beside his bed. Griffin turned his head carefully, testing the limits of his mobility. His neck felt stiff but functional, his thoughts moving with the sluggish clarity of someone emerging from deep sedation. Eli sat slouched in a medical chair that had clearly been designed for patients rather than visitors, his lanky frame fo
My Billionaire Ex-husband Won't Call It Quit CHAPTER 142
Bunker Control Room – 00:23 Hours Michael poured whiskey into a crystal glass—his first act in his new body—the amber liquid catching the harsh light of the control room's monitors. The Macallan 25, a bottle he'd been saving for a special occasion. What could be more special than resurrection? The glass trembled slightly in his grip; his motor control wasn't perfect yet, the neural pathways still forming new connections between synthetic thought and borrowed flesh. The control room stretched before them like the bridge of some impossible starship, banks of monitors displaying data streams from around the globe. Heart rates, sleep patterns, stress indicators—the vital signs of seventy-three hybrid children reduced to glowing metrics on screens. The technology was beautiful in its complexity, elegant in its reach, terrifying in its implications. "Join me," Michael said, turning to face his sons with the glass raised in mock toast. "Not as pawns. As partners." The offer hung in the r
My Billionaire Ex-husband Won't Call It Quit CHAPTER 141
Bunker Control Room – 00:23 Hours Michael poured whiskey into a crystal glass—his first act in his new body—the amber liquid catching the harsh light of the control room's monitors. The Macallan 25, a bottle he'd been saving for a special occasion. What could be more special than resurrection? The glass trembled slightly in his grip; his motor control wasn't perfect yet, the neural pathways still forming new connections between synthetic thought and borrowed flesh. The control room stretched before them like the bridge of some impossible starship, banks of monitors displaying data streams from around the globe. Heart rates, sleep patterns, stress indicators—the vital signs of seventy-three hybrid children reduced to glowing metrics on screens. The technology was beautiful in its complexity, elegant in its reach, terrifying in its implications. "Join me," Michael said, turning to face his sons with the glass raised in mock toast. "Not as pawns. As partners." The offer hung in the r
My Billionaire Ex-husband Won't Call It Quit CHAPTER 140
Bunker Control Room – 00:23 Hours Michael poured whiskey into a crystal glass—his first act in his new body—the amber liquid catching the harsh light of the control room's monitors. The Macallan 25, a bottle he'd been saving for a special occasion. What could be more special than resurrection? The glass trembled slightly in his grip; his motor control wasn't perfect yet, the neural pathways still forming new connections between synthetic thought and borrowed flesh. The control room stretched before them like the bridge of some impossible starship, banks of monitors displaying data streams from around the globe. Heart rates, sleep patterns, stress indicators—the vital signs of seventy-three hybrid children reduced to glowing metrics on screens. The technology was beautiful in its complexity, elegant in its reach, terrifying in its implications. "Join me," Michael said, turning to face his sons with the glass raised in mock toast. "Not as pawns. As partners." The offer hung in the r
My Billionaire Ex-husband Won't Call It Quit CHAPTER 139
Bunker Control Room – 00:23 HoursMichael poured whiskey into a crystal glass—his first act in his new body—the amber liquid catching the harsh light of the control room's monitors. The Macallan 25, a bottle he'd been saving for a special occasion. What could be more special than resurrection? The glass trembled slightly in his grip; his motor control wasn't perfect yet, the neural pathways still forming new connections between synthetic thought and borrowed flesh.The control room stretched before them like the bridge of some impossible starship, banks of monitors displaying data streams from around the globe. Heart rates, sleep patterns, stress indicators—the vital signs of seventy-three hybrid children reduced to glowing metrics on screens. The technology was beautiful in its complexity, elegant in its reach, terrifying in its implications."Join me," Michael said, turning to face his sons with the glass raised in mock toast. "Not as pawns. As partners."The offer hung in the recyc
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