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90. A Day In The Park
Last Updated:
2025-07-28 23:26:34
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The Billionaire's Ex-wife Never Looks Back 91. The Unexpected Rage
Marcus’s Point of ViewThe park was alive with the hum of summer, kids shrieking as they darted through the grass, dogs bounding after frisbees, the air thick with the scent of sunscreen and grilled hot dogs. I sat cross-legged on the picnic blanket, my focus locked on Lily as she scampered back from the swings, her laughter like a melody that could almost drown out the chaos in my head. Almost. Ella sat a few feet away, her juice glass catching the sunlight, her gaze soft but guarded, a reminder of the line I couldn’t cross. I wanted to sink into this moment—the blanket, the breeze, Lily’s giggles—but I held myself back, my heart a traitor that still raced at the sight of Ella’s smile. Those feelings were a minefield, dangerous and raw, and I’d already blown up my life once with her. I wasn’t going to screw this up again, not with Lily watching, her small hands waving as she begged me to push her higher on the swing.“Come on, Daddy!” Lily called, her voice bright, tugging me bac
The Billionaire's Ex-wife Never Looks Back 90. A Day In The Park
Ella’s Point of ViewThe park hummed with life, a soft breeze carrying the laughter of children, the rustle of leaves, and the distant bark of a dog chasing its tail. We were sprawled on a checkered picnic blanket, the grass beneath it soft and slightly damp, the afternoon sun filtering through the trees in golden patches. Shawn lay with his head in my lap, his book open, his fingers lazily turning a page, though I could tell he was more focused on the warmth of my touch than the words. I sipped my juice, the tart sweetness a small comfort, my eyes drifting to Lily, her giggles ringing out as Marcus pushed her on the swing a few yards away. Her small hands gripped the chains, her legs kicking with delight, and for a moment, the sight of her joy was a balm, a fleeting promise that maybe we could carve out something normal, something safe. But the weight of everything— My fears with Marcus, Cliff’s cold words at brunch—was pressed against my chest, a knot that wouldn’t loosen.I ran m
The Billionaire's Ex-wife Never Looks Back 89. Cliff Hayes
Ella’s Point of ViewThe morning’s warmth still hummed in my veins as Shawn and I descended the staircase, our fingers laced together, his touch a quiet promise after the soft hours we’d stolen in bed. The memory of his breakfast tray—flaky croissants, tart strawberries, his lips brushing mine—kept a fragile smile on my face, a shield against the shadows of last night. Amanda’s venom, Cliff’s sharp-edged threats, the specter of Marcus and Vanessa—they lingered like a low hum, ready to flare at any moment. But Shawn’s hand, steady despite the faint tremor from his old surgeries, grounded me. Lily’s laughter spilled from the dining room, bright and unburdened, pulling us forward. I squeezed his hand, his cane tapping softly beside us, and we stepped into the sunlit room where Lily sat, her small hands curled around a glass of orange juice, her smile a light that made my heart twist with love and fear.“Hey, sweetheart,” I said, pressing a kiss to her forehead, her curls tickling my
The Billionaire's Ex-wife Never Looks Back 88. Who I Love The Most
Marcus POVI could hardly believe I’d actually gone to bed with Vanessa. After everything that happened between us in the past, I never thought I’d be interested in her again, but it happened, and I had to conclude it was simply because I was desperately lonely. That’s the only way I’d get involved again with a woman I despised so much.A wave of regret hit me when I woke up the next morning, my conscience coming with a headache from last night’s hangover. Shit. I dragged myself out of bed, threw on the pants lying on the floor, and went to take some medicine to recover quickly. That’s when I noticed Vanessa wasn’t in the room.The bed was empty, though we’d slept together the night before. Had she left? I hoped so, because seeing her face now was the last thing I wanted. I didn’t want to feel guilty.I really hoped she’d gone.But my hopes were shattered when I nearly tripped over her high heel left in the room. Her stuff was still there too; no way she’d leave without her things. Th
The Billionaire's Ex-wife Never Looks Back 87. Making My Way Towards Revenge
Vanessa Monroe’s Point of ViewThe air in The Night Sins pulsed with heat, the bass thumping like a fever in my veins as Marcus’s hand slid up my thigh, his touch bold, possessive, igniting a spark I hadn’t felt in years. His eyes, dark with intent, locked on mine, and I leaned into it, my lips curving into a smile that promised everything and nothing. Five years ago, I’d have melted under that gaze, begged for his love, but now? Now, I hated him—hated the man who’d shattered my world, who’d pushed me hard enough to lose our child, who’d left me to claw my way through the wreckage of my faded fame. But hate was a fire, and fire could burn both ways. I let him lead me out of the club, his grip firm, my dress clinging to my skin, the night air sharp against my flushed cheeks as we headed to his apartment. I wasn’t here for love. I was here for revenge.Inside his penthouse, the city’s glow filtered through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting shadows over sleek furniture and polishe
The Billionaire's Ex-wife Never Looks Back 86. Morning Pampering
Ella’s Point of ViewThe morning light slipped through the curtains, soft and warm, painting the room in a gentle glow that felt like a small mercy after the chaos of last night. I woke slowly, my body heavy, my mind still tangled in the echoes of Amanda’s venomous words, Cliff’s cold threats, and the ghost of Vanessa’s face in that diner. The weight of it all pressed against my chest, a dull ache that hadn’t let go since I’d collapsed into Shawn’s arms, my tears soaking his shirt as I apologized for dragging him into my mess. But now, as my eyes adjusted to the soft light, the scent of fresh coffee and warm pastries hit me, pulling me out of the fog. I propped myself up on the bed, the sheets cool against my skin, and saw Shawn standing by a small tray on the nightstand, his smile quiet but warm, his cane resting against the wall like a silent partner in his efforts.“Morning, beautiful,” he said, his voice low, teasing, as he set a steaming mug of coffee on the tray, alongside a p
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