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CHAPTER 192
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2025-08-20 23:21:35
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My Billionaire Ex-husband Won't Call It Quit CHAPTER 194
Hangar Control Room – 3 Minutes Later The control room sat like a spider at the center of its web, overlooking the hangar through reinforced windows that reflected the harsh work lights below. Griffin's fingers flew across the alien-looking console, his hybrid-enhanced nervous system allowing him to process information at speeds that would have overwhelmed a normal human mind. The interface was a fusion of biological and digital technology, requiring both technical skill and the neural modifications that had been forced upon him. Lines of code scrolled across multiple screens, each one representing a different aspect of the facility's systems. Life support for the hybrid children. Power distribution for the aircraft. Most critically, the neural link networks that connected each child to their designated weapon. "I can override the aircrafts' neural links," Griffin said, his voice tight with concentration and barely suppressed panic. "But the system is designed with multiple safegu
My Billionaire Ex-husband Won't Call It Quit CHAPTER 193
Coleman Manor Ruins – Midnight The flames devoured Michael's childhood home with the same hunger he'd once reserved for me—insatiable, indiscriminate, consuming everything in their path with a primal roar that drowned out the distant wail of too-late sirens. The fire painted the midnight sky in furious oranges and vengeful reds, visible for miles across the manicured landscape of Connecticut old money where the Coleman family had planted their flag generations before Michael was born. Firefighters stood idle at the perimeter of the estate, their trucks parked at strategic intervals that created the illusion of response without action. The chief—a square-jawed man with thirty years of service patches on his jacket—had given the order to "secure the area and prevent spread" rather than "extinguish," a technical distinction that would provide plausible deniability in the morning's inevitable investigation. His daughter went to school with Griffin. Her college tuition had been anon
My Billionaire Ex-husband Won't Call It Quit CHAPTER 192
Coleman Manor Ruins – Midnight The flames devoured Michael's childhood home with the same hunger he'd once reserved for me—insatiable, indiscriminate, consuming everything in their path with a primal roar that drowned out the distant wail of too-late sirens. The fire painted the midnight sky in furious oranges and vengeful reds, visible for miles across the manicured landscape of Connecticut old money where the Coleman family had planted their flag generations before Michael was born. Firefighters stood idle at the perimeter of the estate, their trucks parked at strategic intervals that created the illusion of response without action. The chief—a square-jawed man with thirty years of service patches on his jacket—had given the order to "secure the area and prevent spread" rather than "extinguish," a technical distinction that would provide plausible deniability in the morning's inevitable investigation. His daughter went to school with Griffin. Her college tuition had been anon
My Billionaire Ex-husband Won't Call It Quit CHAPTER 191
Coleman Manor Ruins – Midnight The flames devoured Michael's childhood home with the same hunger he'd once reserved for me—insatiable, indiscriminate, consuming everything in their path with a primal roar that drowned out the distant wail of too-late sirens. The fire painted the midnight sky in furious oranges and vengeful reds, visible for miles across the manicured landscape of Connecticut old money where the Coleman family had planted their flag generations before Michael was born. Firefighters stood idle at the perimeter of the estate, their trucks parked at strategic intervals that created the illusion of response without action. The chief—a square-jawed man with thirty years of service patches on his jacket—had given the order to "secure the area and prevent spread" rather than "extinguish," a technical distinction that would provide plausible deniability in the morning's inevitable investigation. His daughter went to school with Griffin. Her college tuition had been anon
My Billionaire Ex-husband Won't Call It Quit CHAPTER 190
Coleman Manor Ruins – Midnight The flames devoured Michael's childhood home with the same hunger he'd once reserved for me—insatiable, indiscriminate, consuming everything in their path with a primal roar that drowned out the distant wail of too-late sirens. The fire painted the midnight sky in furious oranges and vengeful reds, visible for miles across the manicured landscape of Connecticut old money where the Coleman family had planted their flag generations before Michael was born. Firefighters stood idle at the perimeter of the estate, their trucks parked at strategic intervals that created the illusion of response without action. The chief—a square-jawed man with thirty years of service patches on his jacket—had given the order to "secure the area and prevent spread" rather than "extinguish," a technical distinction that would provide plausible deniability in the morning's inevitable investigation. His daughter went to school with Griffin. Her college tuition had been anon
My Billionaire Ex-husband Won't Call It Quit CHAPTER 189
Coleman Manor Ruins – Midnight The flames devoured Michael's childhood home with the same hunger he'd once reserved for me—insatiable, indiscriminate, consuming everything in their path with a primal roar that drowned out the distant wail of too-late sirens. The fire painted the midnight sky in furious oranges and vengeful reds, visible for miles across the manicured landscape of Connecticut old money where the Coleman family had planted their flag generations before Michael was born. Firefighters stood idle at the perimeter of the estate, their trucks parked at strategic intervals that created the illusion of response without action. The chief—a square-jawed man with thirty years of service patches on his jacket—had given the order to "secure the area and prevent spread" rather than "extinguish," a technical distinction that would provide plausible deniability in the morning's inevitable investigation. His daughter went to school with Griffin. Her college tuition had been anon
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