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Chapter 221

Author: Raven writer
last update Last Updated: 2025-05-25 03:53:59

Kaia’s POV

The sirens weren’t the worst part.

It was the silence inside the squad car.

The kind of silence that wraps around you like a noose.

Tight. Suffocating.

I sat motionless, my hands cuffed, my wrists raw, my mind a vortex of rage and disbelief.

This wasn’t supposed to happen.

Not to me.

Walter sat beside me, stiff and red-faced, saying nothing. He hadn’t said a word since they shoved us into the car.

Good.

Because if he had opened his mouth, I might have screamed.

He was supposed to protect us. He had promised that we were too big to fail. Too powerful to fall.

But now we were here—being driven like common criminals down the same streets where just weeks ago, people whispered our names with reverence.

Now they whispered them with venom.

I shifted slightly, my shoulder brushing against the glass. My phone had been taken. My bags left behind.

The last thing I saw before the front doors closed was that black car across the street.

And the shape o
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  • My Billionaire Husband Doesn’t Love Me   Chapter 222

    Isabelle’s POV Victory doesn’t come with fireworks. Not for people like me. It comes with silence. The kind that hangs in the room like dust, untouched, undisturbed, waiting for you to finally exhale after holding your breath for too long. I was alone in my penthouse when the news hit every major network. “Walter Blackwood and Kaia Whitmore arrested in connection to multiple federal charges…” The footage played on a loop—Walter in his signature suit, face like stone, refusing to look at the cameras. Kaia, flanked by lawyers, barked at someone off-screen. Her glasses couldn’t hide the rage. And then the news anchor repeated what I already knew. The authorities had built their case. And I had given them the blueprint. I stood in the center of my living room, remote in one hand, eyes fixed on the screen. I wasn’t smiling. I wasn’t crying. I just… stood there. Still. Because for the first time in years, the fight was over. The ghosts that had chased me, t

  • My Billionaire Husband Doesn’t Love Me   Chapter 221

    Kaia’s POV The sirens weren’t the worst part. It was the silence inside the squad car. The kind of silence that wraps around you like a noose. Tight. Suffocating. I sat motionless, my hands cuffed, my wrists raw, my mind a vortex of rage and disbelief. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Not to me. Walter sat beside me, stiff and red-faced, saying nothing. He hadn’t said a word since they shoved us into the car. Good. Because if he had opened his mouth, I might have screamed. He was supposed to protect us. He had promised that we were too big to fail. Too powerful to fall. But now we were here—being driven like common criminals down the same streets where just weeks ago, people whispered our names with reverence. Now they whispered them with venom. I shifted slightly, my shoulder brushing against the glass. My phone had been taken. My bags left behind. The last thing I saw before the front doors closed was that black car across the street. And the shape o

  • My Billionaire Husband Doesn’t Love Me   Chapter 220

    Walter’s POV I’d been in this business long enough to know when something was off. When silence in the press wasn’t peace, it was calculation. And this morning, everything was off. The maid didn’t look me in the eye as she poured my coffee. My head of security hadn’t returned my call. And Kaia—who’d spent the past week clinging to every opportunity to remind me we were “on the same page”—hadn’t come downstairs once. I stirred my coffee slowly, trying to quiet the tension in my gut. My hand didn’t shake. Not visibly. But inside, something was twisting, turning, folding in on itself. The television was on low in the background. I wasn’t listening. Not until I heard my name. “—Walter Blackwood and Kaia Whitmore—under scrutiny in what could be one of the most high-profile financial scandals of the last decade. The leak—now verified by two independent sources—connects both parties to illegal offshore wire transfers, labor violations, and the misappropriation of charitable

  • My Billionaire Husband Doesn’t Love Me   Chapter 219

    Isabelle’s POV By the time I arrived at the office the next morning, the story had already broken. I didn’t need to check my phone or open my laptop. I could feel it in the air—the tight hum of tension pulsing beneath every whispered hallway conversation. It was the kind of charged silence that always comes before impact. The kind that means the avalanche has started, and nothing is going to stop it. Stephanie was waiting outside my office door, her expression unreadable as always—but her knuckles were white against the tablet she held. “It’s out,” she said, offering the screen to me. I took it with steady hands. No hesitation. No theatrics. “Blackwood Conglomerate Implicated in Overseas Labor Scandal—Leaked Records Show Possible Violations of International Human Rights Laws.” I scrolled down. Screenshots of wire transfers, photos of handwritten contracts, and summaries of witness interviews. Not mine. External sources. Independently verified. Just like we planned.

  • My Billionaire Husband Doesn’t Love Me   Chapter 218

    Isabelle’s POV I used to think silence meant peace. That stillness was a reward for surviving the noise. But now, I’ve learned that silence is where the weight settles. It’s where every word you never said starts to echo. Where all the masks you’ve worn crack, just slightly. And tonight, silence feels heavier than it’s ever been. The rain outside taps softly against the balcony doors, the city drowned in the hush that only comes with late hours and unresolved war. I sit on the edge of my armchair, a blanket draped over my shoulders like armor I didn’t realize I needed. I don’t move. I don’t speak. I just watch the shadows of the room shift as headlights pass by below. The files on Walter and Kaia are stacked neatly on the coffee table in front of me. Closed. Not because I’m finished. But because I needed to feel human again, even for just one evening. It’s been days since Damion walked back into my life. A storm, a whisper, a regret. And in all that time, I haven

  • My Billionaire Husband Doesn’t Love Me   Chapter 217

    Isabelle’s POV I didn’t sleep that night. Not because I couldn’t. But because I wouldn’t. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Damion’s face—sober, serious, stripped of every layer of the man I once knew. Not the cold executive. Not the man tangled up in his father’s lies or Kaia’s games. Just him. Apologizing. Offering help. And it made everything so much more complicated. Because now I didn’t just have enemies at my back. I had memories clawing at my chest. I paced the length of my bedroom, arms folded tight against my ribs, half-wishing I could peel the moment off my skin like old paint. It should’ve been easy to push him away. But when he said my name… it still did something to me. “If you ever need anything…” I hated how sincere he sounded. I hated that I believed him. But belief doesn’t erase betrayal. And love… love doesn’t cancel the wreckage. ⸻ Morning came with a sky the color of slate. Heavy clouds pressed down on the city like the air

  • My Billionaire Husband Doesn’t Love Me   Chapter 216

    Isabelle’s POV The moment Damion stepped out of my office, it felt like the air finally moved again. But instead of relief, all I felt was a deep, aching emptiness. He had stood there—raw, open, broken—and for a moment, just a fleeting moment, my heart had whispered a truth I’d buried long ago: “I still love him.” I hated it. I hated how just the sound of his voice sent my pulse racing. How even after everything he’d done, everything he’d taken, a part of me still ached for the man I once believed he was. And maybe that was the worst part—because I didn’t love the man standing before me now. I loved the version I thought he could be. And yet… today… for the first time in years… I saw that man again. Even if it was just a glimpse. I pressed a hand to my chest and closed my eyes. My heart didn’t feel like a fortress anymore. It felt like an open wound, stitched together with ambition and vengeance. I’d told myself I was doing all this for justice. For Nathan.

  • My Billionaire Husband Doesn’t Love Me   Chapter 215

    Damion’s POV I stood in front of the mirror, the one in the bathroom I hadn’t used in weeks, watching the water drip from the edge of the sink. My face looked older than I remembered—less polished, more worn. The man looking back at me was a stranger. Or maybe, he was finally the real one. The one stripped of power. Stripped of illusions. And, for the first time in years, I felt clear. No more alcohol. No more hiding behind boardroom masks. I’d been sleepwalking through my own life, letting my father pull the strings, letting Kaia poison everything I touched. But that was over. It had to be. I cleaned up, shaved, and pulled on the first tailored suit I hadn’t worn in a long time. Not because I wanted to impress anyone—but because I needed to feel like I still belonged in this fight. Because it was time. Time to face Isabelle again—not as the man who betrayed her. But as the man who would help her win. ⸻ The elevator ride to her office was brutal. Every ding

  • My Billionaire Husband Doesn’t Love Me   Chapter 214

    Damion’s POV The ice had melted long ago. I stared into the bottom of the glass, the remnants of my third—no, fourth—scotch clinging to the corners like the last pieces of a man who used to matter. Isabelle’s words kept circling in my head. “You could wait forever, and I still wouldn’t choose you.” I hadn’t wanted to believe her. Not the way she said it—calm, resolved, final. I had expected rage. Screaming. Maybe even tears. But she had just looked at me like I didn’t matter anymore. And that—that—was what destroyed me. I wasn’t used to this kind of rejection. I’d been betrayed. Cheated. Even left before. But Isabelle’s rejection was different. Because this time, I knew I deserved it. The penthouse was dark, lit only by the city lights bleeding through the floor-to-ceiling windows. I hadn’t bothered turning on the lights. What was the point? I reached for the bottle again. Poured another. The silence around me felt oppressive, the kind that didn’t just

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