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39. Friends
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2025-06-18 22:49:55
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The Billionaire's Ex-wife Never Looks Back 40. Your Last Wish
Ella’s Point of ViewMy hands trembled as I clipped my silver earrings, the mirror reflecting a woman caught between duty and desire. The morning of Shawn’s surgery loomed, my mind already tracing the delicate steps of his aortic repair, but last night’s garden walk—his gentle apology, his vow to shield me from Marcus—had left a warmth I couldn’t shake. His friendship, his teasing smile, felt like a lifeline in Chicago’s shadows, yet the fear of Marcus, a predator in this city, kept my heart locked. I smoothed my navy blazer, my long black hair pulled into a neat bun, and steadied my breath. I was here to save Shawn’s life, then flee to Lily, my heart’s anchor, before Marcus’s influence could find me.A knock at the door pulled me from my thoughts, and I opened it to find Shawn, his lean frame relaxed in a gray sweater, his blue eyes sparkling despite the faint pallor of his illness. He leaned against the frame, a mischievous grin lighting his face. “Morning, Dr. Harper,” he said, hi
The Billionaire's Ex-wife Never Looks Back 40. I Find You Finally
Marcus’s Point of View The night pressed against me, thick with lake mist and the hum of my own blood pounding in my ears, as I crouched in the shadows beyond Shawn Hayes’s mansion. My binoculars were heavy, cold against my face, but I couldn’t tear them away from the garden where two figures stood by the fountain, their silhouettes etched in moonlight. Shawn, frail but upright, was unmistakable, his careful movements betraying his illness. But the woman beside him—her long, dark hair swaying, her posture both guarded and graceful—was a jolt to my core. Ella. I knew her too well, every curve, every tilt of her head burned into me over years of obsession. Five years of chasing ghosts, of dead ends in Paris, Mexico, and beyond, and now, here she was, in Chicago, so close I could almost taste her. My breath hitched, a surge of triumph and rage clawing up my throat. My fingers tightened on the binoculars, knuckles white, as I watched Shawn’s hand brush hers, a fleeting touch that ig
The Billionaire's Ex-wife Never Looks Back 39. Friends
Ella’s Point of ViewMy fingers clutched the edge of the guest suite’s duvet, the fabric soft but no comfort against the insomnia gnawing at me. Shawn’s voice echoed in my head—his teasing laughter at dinner, his gentle confession by the fire, then the sharp sting of Marcus’s name, a blade that had sent me fleeing. I’d felt alive under Shawn’s gaze, desired in a way I hadn’t been since Marcus’s obsession caged me, but fear had slammed my heart shut. Talking to Lily earlier, her giggles a lifeline to Seattle, had eased the ache, but now, alone, my thoughts spun like leaves in a storm. I was here to save Shawn’s heart, not to risk mine, yet his warmth lingered, a dangerous spark in a city where Marcus’s shadow could still fall.A soft knock at the door startled me, faint but insistent, slicing through the midnight quiet. My breath caught, my eyes darting to the clock—2:17 a.m. I wasn’t sleeping, my mind too tangled, but who could need me now? I slid from the bed, my bare feet brushing
The Billionaire's Ex-wife Never Looks Back 38. Sprinkles and Gossip With Baby Daughter
Ella’s Point of ViewMy heart was still racing as I shut the door to the guest suite, the echo of Shawn’s voice—warm, teasing, then cautious—lingering like a melody I couldn’t shake. I leaned against the door, my fingers brushing the silver star pendant at my throat, Lily’s gift, a quiet anchor in the storm of emotions Shawn had stirred. The dinner had been a dance of light and shadow—his compliments, his laughter, the way his blue eyes held mine like I was something precious. For a moment, I’d felt alive, seen in a way I hadn’t been in years, not since Marcus’s toxicity had forced me into hiding. But when Shawn mentioned Marcus, the name had been a cold jolt, dragging me back to a past I wasn’t ready to face. I’d fled, my fear a wall between me and the connection I’d almost let bloom.I exhaled, pushing off the door, the sapphire dress suddenly heavy, a reminder of the vulnerability I’d let slip. I slipped it off, trading it for a soft cotton pajama set, the pale blue fabric comfor
The Billionaire's Ex-wife Never Looks Back 37. The Enchanting Shawn Hayes
Ella’s Point of ViewMy fingers trembled as I fastened the clasp of Lily’s star pendant, the silver cool against my throat, a tether to my daughter’s love as I stood in the guest suite of Shawn Hayes’s mansion. The mirror reflected a woman I barely recognized—cheeks flushed, eyes bright with a nervous thrill I hadn’t felt in years. Shawn’s gaze from our earlier meeting, those blue eyes warm and searching, had sparked something reckless in me, a longing I’d buried under five years of caution. My black hair, grown long and loose over my Seattle years, spilled over the shoulders of my sapphire dress, its sleek fit a quiet defiance of the fear Marcus had instilled. I was here to save Shawn’s life, not to lose myself in his charm, but his words, his smile, made it hard to remember that.I scolded myself, smoothing the dress, my heart a restless drumbeat. Shawn was my patient, and Chicago was a city laced with danger, where Marcus’s shadow could still reach. Five years of hiding, of prote
The Billionaire's Ex-wife Never Looks Back 36. Obsessed With You
Marcus’s Point of ViewThe engine of my Maserati growled as I eased out of Shawn Hayes’s mansion, the gravel crunching beneath the tires, a sharp contrast to the storm brewing in my chest. The meeting with Shawn had been a dance of veiled skepticism—his polite refusal to commit to the Carter’s Wine investment, his probing questions about the company’s scandals, my scandals. His parting words, wishing me luck in finding my “wife,” had felt like a taunt, though his smile was too polished to confirm it. I gripped the steering wheel, my knuckles whitening, the lake’s dark expanse a blur beyond the North Shore’s manicured estates. Five years of chasing Ella had honed my instincts, and something about Shawn—his sharp gaze, his guarded tone—set my nerves on edge. He was a rival, not just in business, though I couldn’t yet name why.As I reached the mansion’s wrought-iron gates, they swung open, and a convoy of six black SUVs rolled past, their tinted windows reflecting the dusk’s fading li
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