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Chapter 62

Penulis: Anney GW
last update Terakhir Diperbarui: 2025-09-01 16:12:21
DAVID

I’d been planning this for days. A confrontation that looked casual but wasn’t. Calculated, not reactive. Nico was the kind of man who fed off direct challenges. If I went in hot, he’d smirk, dismiss me, maybe even push harder at Hannah just to spite me. No—this had to be quiet, controlled. A slow tightening of the noose.

So I staged it.

A hotel bar, the kind that prides itself on polished wood and expensive scotch, where men like him strutted like peacocks. I was already waiting when he walked in, not by chance, but because I’d made sure his schedule bled into mine. He spotted me instantly, like two predators recognizing each other in the wild.

“David Vanderbilt,” Nico drawled as he slid onto the stool beside mine. His suit was crisp, navy with a thin silver pinstripe, and his cologne hit before his smile did. Too much of both. “What are the odds?”

“Not odds,” I said evenly, lifting my glass. “Timing.”

He chuckled, low and amused. “So this is planned. What do you want? Or should
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  • Never Forgive You, My Ex-Husband   Chapter 76

    DAVIDI waited until the last guard passed the corridor. The monitors in front of me showed the usual: Nico’s men on lazy loops around the mansion, Sydney fuming in her bedroom like a storm cloud with lipstick, Veronica sipping her late-night tea, composed and poisonous.And then there was her.Hannah stood by the window in the east wing suite, moonlight carving her into something spectral. She touched the curtain twice—our signal. Safe. Alone.I slipped out of the control room, crossed the grounds through shadows I knew better than my own reflection, and took the service stairs two at a time. By the time I reached her door, my pulse was steady again, my hand already curling into a fist like it always did before a negotiation. Except this wasn’t business. It was worse.She opened the door without a word.The first thing that hit me was her eyes. Tired, rimmed with defiance, like she hadn’t decided whether to collapse into my arms or push me out into the hall.“You’re late,” she whisper

  • Never Forgive You, My Ex-Husband   Chapter 75

    HANNAHBy the third morning, the house pretends I belong to it again.Alvarez brings me toast without asking how I like it. The gardener tips his cap like I’m a painting that’s been rehung. Staff footsteps adjust to my rhythm in the halls, no hesitation, no curiosity. White lilies return to the foyer table—thick-throated and sterile, like the house wants me to breathe hospital air.Nico mistakes all of that for peace.He appears in doorways the way he always did—already moving toward me, already narrating the next scene. He kisses the top of my head when I’m seated, the corner of my mouth when I stand, the hollow beneath my ear when he’s decided he’s been patient enough. I smile appropriately, soften on cue, use the little stallers I’ve perfected until they sound like breath: “Headache,” “Not yet,” “Doctor said to ease back in.”He believes me because he needs to.At breakfast he spreads apricot jam on my toast and slides the plate toward me like a vow. “You’re too thin,” he says, cupp

  • Never Forgive You, My Ex-Husband   Chapter 74

    HANNAHThe door slammed so hard the chandelier rattled. Nico stood there in the frame, chest heaving, his eyes wild. Papers fluttered in his fists like broken wings. He threw them across the room, and they scattered at my feet.“Explain this,” he snarled. His voice was raw, shredded by rage.I didn’t move right away. I forced my face into wide-eyed shock, my lips parted just enough to tremble. Slowly, deliberately, I crouched down and picked one of the photos off the carpet.David. His profile bent toward mine. My face, blurred, close enough to suggest intimacy.Fabricated. Twisted. Sydney’s handiwork.But Nico didn’t see forgery. He saw betrayal.I let my breath hitch. “What… what is this?” I whispered, like a woman whose world had just collapsed. I pressed a hand to my chest, sinking onto the edge of the bed as if my legs couldn’t hold me.“You tell me!” he roared, stepping closer. His shadow loomed over me, filling the room. “Tell me why you’ve been sneaking around with him. Tell me

  • Never Forgive You, My Ex-Husband   Chapter 73

    SYDNEYI told myself I’d wait. That patience was power, that Hannah would trip on her own lies if I just let her keep dancing. I practiced the smile, the sweet voice, the act of indifference. But every time I saw her in the mansion, wearing his ring again, sliding into his side like she belonged there, something inside me twisted until it was unbearable.She was winning.And if I didn’t act soon, I’d lose everything I had clawed, begged, and bled for.So I stopped waiting.The photos weren’t real — not all of them, anyway. The bones of truth existed. A grainy shot of Hannah slipping into a car at dusk, her face turned halfway to the lens. Another of David Vanderbilt leaning toward someone in a café, posture angled like a man in quiet intimacy. That was enough. The rest was just… manipulation. Shadows cropped in, angles blurred. A little touch-up here, a splice there, and suddenly Hannah and David occupied the same frame, their bodies closer than they ever had been.It didn’t need to be

  • Never Forgive You, My Ex-Husband   Chapter 72

    HANNAHThe dress wasn’t mine. Nothing about tonight was mine.Nico had laid it out on the bed like some offering from a king to his queen. Midnight silk, soft under my fingers, the kind of fabric that whispered luxury. A neckline that dipped low enough to make me self-conscious, and diamond earrings so heavy they felt like a bribe. He didn’t ask if I liked them. He just stood there, smug, like he was watching me step back into a role I’d abandoned.“Try it on,” he said. His voice was velvet over steel.I slipped into it, every inch of fabric a reminder that this wasn’t about me. When his hand grazed my waist under the pretense of helping with the zipper, I forced myself not to flinch. The jewels sat cold on my collarbones, glitter dressed up as chains.“You look perfect,” Nico whispered against my ear. “My wife, exactly as she should be.”The word wife scratched against my skin like sandpaper.The ride over was quiet except for Nico rehearsing lines under his breath. I knew that look

  • Never Forgive You, My Ex-Husband   Chapter 71

    DAVIDThe Mancini mansion looked calm from a mile out. Houses like that are built to lie. From the ridge I had a clear line on the south façade—second-floor windows glowing like aquariums. My screens stitched the rest together: traffic cams I’d borrowed, a drone loitering high enough to be mistaken for a star, two long lenses on the lawns, and a city utility cam that “accidentally” stared at the service gate.We’d agreed—no bugs inside. Nico’s nose for paranoia beats most counter-surveillance teams. So I watched the edges and read the room through glass, rhythm, reflection.And her.Hannah’s first signal came at 7:03 p.m. Dining room, end of the table. She circled the rim of her water glass twice, then set the stem aligned to her plate. Two circles = light supervision. Stem to plate = lipstick recorder live.I exhaled. “She’s on,” I said into the throat mic.“Copy,” Elise replied. “South lawn clear. Omar on the west fence, cyclist looping the road. If anything twitches, we’re there.”T

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