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Chapter 136
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2025-06-10 20:22:15
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My Ex, the Widowed Billionaire Chapter 141
The Marseille contact was a man named Gideon Raye—ex-CERN, now off-grid, the sort of person who only lived in the mouths of other ghosts. Callum had crossed paths with him during an intelligence op in Tunisia years ago. Back then, Gideon was still clean-shaven, idealistic, someone who believed data could save the world.Now he lived in the hull of an abandoned cargo trawler dry-docked on the outskirts of the port. The ship was rusted, tilted, as if caught mid-surrender to the earth. But its insides were reinforced with lead-lined walls and hardware that buzzed low like bees in the bone.Gideon greeted us at the edge of the dock, his eyes hidden behind mirrored lenses, his hands gloved despite the heat.“You brought the storm with you,” he said.Callum nodded. “We need to know everything you have on Sable.”Gideon’s mouth twitched. Not a smile. Not quite. “Then come inside. The current’s shifting faster than you think.”Inside, the ship was a maze of servers and machinery, old biometri
My Ex, the Widowed Billionaire Chapter 140
The thing about ghosts is: just when you think they’ve been buried, they claw their way up with blood under their fingernails.It was late afternoon when the past caught up.The rain had passed, leaving behind petrichor and a lingering chill. I was patching the fence along the east side of the garden. Callum was in town with Echo, picking up supplies. Normal things. Civilian things.Things that didn’t belong in the world I used to call mine.The crack of a twig was the first warning. Too deliberate to be an animal. Too sharp to be the wind.My spine stiffened.Then came the voice—calm, clipped, familiar.“Still using that shoulder like it doesn’t ache every time it rains?”I didn’t turn around. My fingers tightened around the hammer.“Hello, Iskra,” I said.She stepped into view, her boots crunching soft over gravel, coat wet from the road. Still too thin. Still too sharp. Like she'd been carved out of winter.“I go by Athena now,” I added, finally facing her.A smirk tugged at the co
My Ex, the Widowed Billionaire Chapter 139
Some wounds don’t bleed anymore—but they still ache when the weather changes.And love, if it survives fire, betrayal, and silence, stops being a fragile thing.It becomes a choice.The garden Callum built was crooked in the best way.Uneven patches of green spilled over stone paths and mismatched wooden trellises. Morning glories climbed wild. Tomatoes hung plump and sun-warm. Basil sprouted in chaotic defiance. Nothing here obeyed order. Nothing here was perfect.But every inch had his hands in it.And somehow, it grounded me more than any safehouse ever did.I was kneeling by the beans when I heard him behind me. The soft crunch of boots on gravel. Not stealthy—Callum never crept. He came as he was.“You’re staring at that plant like it owes you an apology,” he said, wiping his hands on a rag.“It’s not thriving,” I murmured. “Leaves are curling. Could be soil fatigue.”He crouched beside me, resting his elbows on his knees. “Or maybe it’s just figuring itself out.”I looked at him
My Ex, the Widowed Billionaire Chapter 138
For days after the fire, we moved like shadows.The safehouse Reyes built was gone, smoldering under layers of betrayal and black smoke. Every trace of her, every wire and warning, had been scrubbed clean. But she left us one last thread: a name and a location buried in the metadata of a corrupted audio file.The moment I saw it, something in my chest twisted.Because Volkhov wasn’t a place.It was a person.And not just anyone.My ex-husband.“You know him,” Callum said, reading my face like a map he’d memorized long ago.I hesitated. “I did.”He waited, but I offered nothing else. Not yet. Some truths still burned too hot to handle.Callum nodded, jaw tight. “If he’s part of this…”“He’s not,” I interrupted quickly. Too quickly. “Alexei wouldn’t be.”“Wouldn’t be what, Wren? Part of a black-market operation? Selling out operatives to the highest bidder? Or wouldn’t be working for someone else again—like last time?”That last bit hit like shrapnel.“He saved my life,” I said quietly.
My Ex, the Widowed Billionaire Chapter 137
For a moment, I didn’t breathe.The message on my secure line was short, brutal, and intimate in a way only old enemies knew how to be. It wasn’t just a threat—it was a map of our ghosts. A list of those who’d already been taken, the red slashes across their faces like a mark of ritual execution. Someone had gone through the trouble of finding the old photograph—one we’d taken the night before a covert op in Balochistan—and repurposed it into a warning.Everyone in that picture was either dead or marked.Everyone… except Callum and me.I snapped the laptop shut like I could somehow crush the message by denying it oxygen. But its presence lingered. In my skin. In my throat. In the blood-thump between my ears.I looked back out the window.Callum was kneeling in the dirt, trowel in one hand, tomato sprout in the other. Unaware. Peaceful.Vulnerable.I took the long way to him, walking around the back fence, pretending to check the soil levels in the raised beds. My fingers grazed the co
My Ex, the Widowed Billionaire Chapter 136
Two weeks after we came home, the quiet began to feel too loud again.It started subtly. A forgotten cup of coffee cooling on the counter. Callum spending longer hours at the shelter, coming home with shadows under his eyes. I told myself it was just adjustment. A return to rhythm. But some rhythms, once broken, never quite settle the same way.I tried to shake it off. I threw myself into the garden. Repainted the porch. Cooked recipes I hadn’t made since my cadet days. Callum smiled through it all. Kissed my cheek. Said thank you. But it wasn’t us anymore—it was a performance of who we thought we should be. Safe. Settled.Except I’d learned something about safety. It can become a cage dressed in comfort.One morning, I found him in the shed. Not fixing anything. Just sitting on the workbench, hands stained with grease, staring at the wall. When I asked if he was okay, he just nodded and said, “Long day.”He was hiding something. I knew it in the way you know a storm is coming, even b
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