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CHAPTER 121
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2025-05-10 19:45:18
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RUTHLESS BILLIONAIRE EX-HUSBAND CHASED ME BACK CHAPTER 121
The video went viral overnight.It wasn't supposed to. I hadn’t edited it for drama, hadn’t scripted a redemption arc. But there it was, reshared a thousand times, on student accounts, art feeds, feminist pages, and eventually even a few minor news sites.People called it “brave.” Some called it “staged.”And others… called it a declaration of war.By noon the next day, I was summoned to the Dean’s office.I walked in wearing all black and zero makeup, half-daring anyone to underestimate me. Jeff was already sitting inside when I arrived, his expression unreadable, lips pressed into a firm line. He looked good — tired, older than a week ago, but good. It made me want to look away.The Dean, an aging woman with hawk eyes and a bob sharp enough to slice fruit, gestured for me to sit.“I’ll make this brief,” she said. “There are two narratives going around. Yours, and the one spreading like wildfire thanks to the anonymous leak. Now, we have no official proof, but…”She glanced at Jeff.
RUTHLESS BILLIONAIRE EX-HUSBAND CHASED ME BACK CHAPTER 120
I drove up to Crescent Ridge with my hands clamped so tightly on the steering wheel that my knuckles turned white. It wasn’t just nerves. It was the weight of everything still hanging off me like soaked clothes — betrayal, confusion, buried hurt, and a flicker of something dangerously close to hope.Jeff hadn’t said much about the house. Just that it was quiet, away from the city noise. “A place to think,” he’d told me. “To breathe.”I wasn’t sure if he meant it as a metaphor for us or an escape hatch from everything else.But either way, I needed it.The house sat at the edge of a winding cliff road, flanked by old oaks and wild shrubs. It was modest, but something about it already felt alive. The windows were tall and clean, and the steps leading to the porch had been freshly painted a soft, earthy blue.I stood outside for a full minute before sliding the key into the door.It clicked open with a soft groan.Inside, the air smelled of cedar and freshly sanded floors. There was bare
RUTHLESS BILLIONAIRE EX-HUSBAND CHASED ME BACK CHAPTER 119
I didn’t sleep that night.Not really.I lay in bed staring at the ceiling, the glow of my phone screen casting long shadows across my room as I scrolled through every old photo, every text thread with Rafi—each one now laced with a question I never thought I’d ask.Was any of it real?At 4:52 AM, I sent him a message:Me: We need to talk. Today.He replied in less than five minutes.Rafi: Come by the shop before we open. 9 sharp.The bell above the door jingled when I stepped into his family’s repair shop, a quiet haven usually filled with the smell of oil and old wood. But today it felt suffocating. Like the walls had been listening all along.Rafi was behind the counter, wiping down a busted espresso machine. He looked up, and his smile faltered as soon as he saw my face.“Hey,” he said slowly.I walked past the counter and locked the door behind me.“We’re not doing this casually,” I said.He nodded, wiped his hands on a rag, and leaned against the counter like he was bracing for
RUTHLESS BILLIONAIRE EX-HUSBAND CHASED ME BACK CHAPTER 118
Three days later, we met at a park halfway between my apartment and his.He stood by the fountain, hands in his coat pockets, like he wasn’t sure I’d show.When I walked up, he looked like he was holding his breath.“I read the letter,” I said.He nodded. “I meant every word.”“I believe you.”A pause.“But I still don’t know if I can trust you the way I used to.”He swallowed hard. “Tell me what to do. I’ll do it.”“You can’t do anything,” I said. “You just have to be better. And I have to figure out if that’s enough.”We stood there for a long time, the wind tugging at my hair, the world oddly still.Finally, I spoke again. “For now… we need space. Real space.”His shoulders sagged. “How long?”“I don’t know.”He reached out but stopped himself.“Okay,” he said, voice raw. “But I’ll wait. As long as it takes.”And for the first time in a long time, I believed him.But belief wasn’t the same as forgiveness.And love wasn’t the same as safety.***The word space sounded so clean when
RUTHLESS BILLIONAIRE EX-HUSBAND CHASED ME BACK CHAPTER 117
The Vellana Hotel was sleek and glassy, the kind of place where the lobby smelled like vanilla and money. The staff recognized me, of course. I was Jeff Ortega’s “almost-fiancée” in the public eye.I didn’t wait for permission. I went straight up to the top floor.Room 2301.I knocked once.Then again.And then I heard movement.The door opened halfway.Jeff stood there, shirtless, with a towel around his waist. His hair was wet, like he’d just come out of the shower. There were red marks on his collarbone. I didn’t know what they were. I didn’t want to.“Demi?”His voice was thick with sleep. Or guilt.“What the hell are you doing here?” I asked, my voice breaking.He blinked, confused. “I—I didn’t know you were coming.”“No. You didn’t think I’d catch you.”Jeff opened the door wider, revealing the perfectly untouched king-sized bed behind him. The room was clean. Too clean.“Where were you last night?”“I told you. Business meeting.”“With Jenny?”His expression shifted instantly.
RUTHLESS BILLIONAIRE EX-HUSBAND CHASED ME BACK CHAPTER 116
Marisol convened an emergency meeting. The conference room buzzed with tension as team members exchanged concerned glances."Choi's platform is gaining traction," Marisol began. "But we've uncovered something—her contracts include clauses that severely limit artists' rights, binding them to exclusivity and relinquishing control over their own work."Gasps filled the room."How do we expose this?" Jeff asked.Marisol's eyes sparkled with determination. "We go public. Transparency is our weapon."We launched a campaign titled "Art Without Chains," highlighting the importance of artistic freedom and ownership. Testimonials from former Choi Collective artists surfaced, revealing the restrictive nature of their contracts.Social media buzzed with the hashtag #ArtWithoutChains. The art community rallied, demanding accountability.Choi responded with a sleek video, dismissing our claims as misinformation. But the seed of doubt had been planted.One evening, as I prepared to leave the studio,
RUTHLESS BILLIONAIRE EX-HUSBAND CHASED ME BACK CHAPTER 115
That afternoon, a box was delivered to our downtown headquarters. No sender, no message—just a sleek black cube with a silver Choi Collective emblem stamped into the lid.Curious, I opened it in the middle of the main floor. Jeff hovered near me, tense.Inside was a thick manila folder, a glossy pamphlet, and a single ivory card with looping, expensive handwriting."To Demi Perez,In case you’re ready to evolve.– JC"I thumbed through the folder. Enclosed were statistics—digital engagement metrics, financial comparisons, influencer endorsements. The pamphlet detailed a proposed acquisition. Jenny Choi wanted to buy the Perez Group.I laughed out loud, short and sharp. Several interns turned to look.“She thinks I’d sell?” I muttered.Jeff took the pamphlet and scanned it quickly, his lips curling into a sneer. “She’s not just trying to buy you out. She’s trying to erase you.”The offer was cloaked in diplomacy, full of language about ‘integration’ and ‘synergy.’ But between the lines
RUTHLESS BILLIONAIRE EX-HUSBAND CHASED ME BACK CHAPTER 114
The morning sun filtered through the tall windows of the Unbound studio, casting golden hues on the freshly primed canvases. The scent of linseed oil and turpentine lingered in the air, a comforting aroma that signified creation and possibility. Jeff was already immersed in his latest piece, his brow furrowed in concentration.I sipped my coffee, the warmth grounding me. The past year had been a whirlwind—court victories, exhibitions, and the establishment of Unbound. We had become a beacon for emerging artists, a sanctuary where creativity thrived free from exploitation.But peace, I had learned, was often the calm before a storm.Marisol's call came mid-morning."Demi, have you heard of Jenny Choi?"The name was unfamiliar. "Should I have?""She's a Korean-American entrepreneur making waves in the Asian art scene. Just launched 'Choi Collective' in Manila. She's positioning herself as the new face of contemporary art."I raised an eyebrow. "Competition?"Marisol hesitated. "More lik
RUTHLESS BILLIONAIRE EX-HUSBAND CHASED ME BACK CHAPTER 113
By the time we returned to the city, the world had moved on. Trends shifted, scandals erupted, new controversies consumed the headlines. But our work hadn’t been for headlines.#ReclaimArt still trended intermittently, a heartbeat pulsing through digital space. I got tagged in murals painted in Toronto, zines printed in Chicago, essays written in Manila. Students messaged me asking for advice. Professors invited me to guest lecture. I agreed to a few—only the ones that felt rooted in something real.The first Studio Phoenix residency launched the following spring. We converted an old firehouse into studio spaces and brought in a therapist familiar with creative trauma. Marisol helped structure the nonprofit. Jeff taught photography workshops. I led morning meditations and guided painting sessions under trees.Our first cohort of residents was a mix of ages and mediums. A spoken word poet escaping an abusive label contract. A queer sculptor fighting a custody battle. A textile artist w
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