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Chapter 129
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2025-10-28 16:47:14
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Never Forgive You, My Ex-Husband Chapter 130
HANNAHThe mansion doesn’t feel like a mansion anymore. It feels like a carcass.The chandeliers are still lit, but they buzz too loudly in the empty halls. The lilies in the foyer are wilted, their petals browning like paper left too close to a flame. Someone—probably Alvarez—still keeps the marble polished, but the shine feels wrong. Too clean. Like the place is trying to hide what it’s been.Most of the staff have gone, taking quiet leaves of absence or just not coming back at all. Veronica is gone too—retreated somewhere private to salvage what’s left of her reputation. Sydney’s room was cleared out overnight. No goodbye, no scene. Just gone.Only Nico’s shadow lingers. His study door is sealed, crime tape stretched across it, the desk inside probably still smelling like his cologne and broken glass. He’s not here anymore. He’s somewhere else—under investigation, under guard, under everything.For the first time in years, I can walk through this house without listening for footste
Never Forgive You, My Ex-Husband Chapter 129
SYDNEYI wake to the sound of my phone buzzing nonstop. At first, it feels good. Like victory.This is it. The story must have gone live. My inbox must be full of congratulations, of editors asking for exclusives, of Nico finally seeing what Hannah really is.I reach for the phone, heart thudding.And then I see the notifications.Not praise.Headlines.HANNAH MANCINI: THE SURVIVOR WHO STOOD AGAINST HER HUSBAND’S EMPIRE VIEWERS RALLY AROUND HANNAH AFTER SHOCKING FOOTAGE PUBLIC OUTCRY GROWS AS HANNAH’S STATEMENTS TREND #IStandWithHannahThe tabloid story I planted is there, buried three scrolls down.And the comments under it are brutal.“This is disgusting. Leave her alone.” “This is just more victim-blaming trash.” “Sydney’s name is on this? Of course it is. She’s been jealous from the start.”My mouth goes dry. I keep scrolling, keep reading, keep looking for someone—anyone—to say what I wanted them to say.They don’t.**********************************By the time I sit up, the
Never Forgive You, My Ex-Husband Chapter 128
NICOThe walls are too loud. They whisper when I walk past, like the plaster itself has joined the chorus.“Fraud.”“Control.”“Coercion.”Words reporters love because they don’t have to live inside them.I slam my fist against the wood paneling in the study until my knuckles sing, but the whispers don’t stop. They never stop.**********************************The staff scatter when I enter a room now. Alvarez lowers her eyes. Even the gardener—who’s worked here twenty years, who once said I saved his son’s job—won’t meet my gaze.Traitors. All of them.Only Hannah smiles. She smiles like she believes, like she hasn’t already poisoned me with her performance, her “truth.” I saw the way she looked at the crowd last night, saw how the cameras adored her.She’s mine. She’s always been mine.But even mine smiles too much when I’m not watching.**********************************This morning, the board came. I should’ve told them not to, but they swarmed anyway, their suits and their nerv
Never Forgive You, My Ex-Husband Chapter 127
HANNAHThe ballroom feels hotter tonight. The chandeliers blaze so brightly it’s like they want to burn holes in me, but I stand very still, smiling, the perfect wife beside her perfect husband. Nico’s hand rests on the small of my back — warm, possessive, grounding me in a way that feels more like a chain than a touch.Cameras flash. Glasses clink. The murmur of expensive conversation swells and dips, like everyone’s waiting for the main act to begin.And they are.I glance toward the far wall where the press has been corralled. Red camera lights glow like waiting eyes. Somewhere outside the building, David is watching through the feed, waiting for me to give the signal.I can feel the flash drive like a weight in my clutch. Cold. Small. Capable of ending everything.Nico raises his glass again, ready to speak, but I slide forward before he can, letting the train of my dress sweep behind me.“Before Nico speaks,” I say, projecting my voice so the whole room can hear, “I’d like to say
Never Forgive You, My Ex-Husband Chapter 126
HANNAHThe mansion gleams like it’s been scrubbed within an inch of its life. Chandeliers blaze overhead, marble floors polished until they reflect my dress back at me — the same emerald silk Nico chose, a replica of the one I wore the night we met. He thinks putting me in it will rewrite history, drag me back to a place where I still loved him.Underneath the silk, against my ribs, the mic David gave me hums like a second heartbeat. Two taps to go live, three for backup. I tap twice before stepping out of my room.The house is a theater tonight. Staff move like clockwork, faces blank, hands sure. Guests arrive in waves — businessmen in black suits, women in couture, the city’s gossip writers already whispering before they’re even handed champagne. It’s a reconciliation story too shiny to resist: the fallen wife restored, the perfect family rebuilt.I catch Alvarez’s eye as I pass. She doesn’t speak, just inclines her head the smallest fraction — a signal we agreed on. South hall clear
Never Forgive You, My Ex-Husband Chapter 125
HANNAHBy the time I made it back to my room, my hands wouldn’t stop shaking.The house was quiet, too quiet, the kind that pressed on my skin and made me wonder if Nico had eyes on me even now. The vows I’d found scrawled across his desk burned behind my eyes — You’ll never leave me again — written so many times the pen had nearly carved through the paper.I wanted to scream. I wanted to smash something until it broke loud enough to wake the whole damn house. Instead, I paced.The knock came soft, deliberate.“Open the door, Hannah,” David’s voice, low and dangerous, the kind of voice that never asked twice.I hesitated for three full seconds before turning the knob.He was already inside before I could say anything, shutting the door behind him. He didn’t bother with hello.“You can’t do this,” he said, his voice sharp. “You can’t stand up in front of half the city tomorrow and let him put a ring on you like some trophy he just cleaned and polished.”“I’m not letting him—”“Yes, you
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