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CHAPTER 11
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2025-04-26 19:42:27
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WANTING MY BILLIONAIRE EX-WIFE CHAPTER 45
The car was silent, like a breath held underwater.Paris blurred past the window in streaks of gold and glass, but Ximena wasn’t watching it. Her gaze was anchored somewhere deeper—on the flicker of red silk that danced along the inside hem of her gown every time the city lights caught it just right. The replica hugged her body like a second skin, but that crimson lining?That wasn’t fashion.It was a warning. A memory. A declaration.She scrolled through her phone absently. No messages. No calls. Not even a useless update from Marco.Her thumb hovered over her contacts for a moment—paused on *Miguel*. Then moved on.The only sound in the car was the faint mechanical click of passing street signs and the echo of Marco’s words looping in her head.**“Santiago Cortez owns forty-nine per cent.”**Forty-nine wasn’t control.But it was enough to destabilize everything.She forced a slow breath past her lips, one that did nothing to untangle the coil of pressure in her chest. Not fear—some
WANTING MY BILLIONAIRE EX-WIFE CHAPTER 44
The thread glowed under the lamplight like blood spun into silk.Ximena sat cross-legged on the chaise in her suite, her tablet beside her, sketchbook open on her lap. She’d pinned the red thread directly against the original Crimson Core sketch—the exact design that had been traced and returned to her in that envelope.It matched. Exactly. Same tensile sheen. Same cut finish.This wasn’t a coincidence— it can never be called a coincidence!She traced her finger over the faint pencil etching beneath the hem of the traced version: *Look again.*She had. And now she couldn’t stop.The ghost stitch was still there in the traced version—two subtle lines placed precisely in the shoulder seam. But something still nagged at her. She picked up the envelope again and ran her fingers across the inside. Nothing. Not even a hair or a scent.Then she held the traced sketch under the desk lamp. Slowly. Angled it from the bottom edge toward the top. The shadows shifted across the page—and there, bar
WANTING MY BILLIONAIRE EX-WIFE CHAPTER 43
The next evening.Ximena slipped off her heels as the door to her suite clicked shut behind her. Paris glittered through the glass-panelled windows, but the lights in the suite were low, casting long shadows against marble and velvet.She was drained. The summit had been relentless—endless panels whispered rumours about her and Miguel, and questions she wasn’t ready to answer. Her thoughts ached louder than her heels.She stepped toward the bathroom to wash off the day—but stopped cold.A single red silk thread looped around the handle of the bathroom door.Thin. Delicate. Impossible.Her breath hitched.She knew that thread.No—she had *designed* with it. The exact texture, weight, and colour were unmistakable. It was part of her concept sketches for the **Crimson Core** collection—a line so private, she hadn’t even shared it with Antonio Fashion’s creative board yet. It existed in a secure, offline folder—only accessible on her encrypted tablet.Heart hammering, she crossed the room
WANTING MY BILLIONAIRE EX-WIFE CHAPTER 42
The quiet in the suite was too heavy to be peaceful. Ximena sat up slowly, the silken sheets slipping off her shoulders like a memory she didn’t want to keep. The room was still, untouched since last night—except for the red box on the console near the door. She hadn’t dreamt it. It was still real. She rose without thinking, her bare feet making no sound on the polished wood floor, and crossed the suite with sharp, deliberate movements. She opened the safe. The gloves were there, resting like folded shadows. But the note—gone.There had been a note. Not left by her. Left *for* her. Last night, she’d placed it inside the box for safekeeping. Just a sentence. Just a test. Now it was missing.Her throat tightened, not with fear, but with something colder. Intrusion. She shut the safe slowly and stood for a moment, staring at her reflection in the dark glass of the minibar. The idea of being watched—it wasn’t new. But being *touched*, being accessed, that was different. And whoever di
WANTING MY BILLIONAIRE EX-WIFE CHAPTER 41
The jet landed in Paris just as dawn broke, casting a pale mist over the runway. The early morning light reflected off the wet tarmac, softening the sleek lines of the aircraft. As the cabin doors opened, Ximena stepped out first, heels clicking on the stairway, followed closely by Miguel.They walked in silence, just inches apart, the space between them tense and charged. Cameras flashed from a distance. Parisian media had caught wind of their arrival. And though neither of them acknowledged it, the photos would be everywhere within the hour—two former spouses, now rivals, landing at the same summit.A black luxury car waited for Ximena. The driver bowed slightly, opening the door with precise timing. “Ms. Antonio. Welcome to Paris. Hotel Virelle is ready for your arrival.”Miguel’s transport pulled up right behind her. To her surprise, he was also headed to the same hotel.“We’re at the same hotel?” she asked, stepping into the car but keeping her tone neutral.Miguel raised an ey
WANTING MY BILLIONAIRE EX-WIFE CHAPTER 40
The sun was barely up when Ximena Antonio stepped into her office, her heels clicking against the marble floor. A stack of press clippings, emails, and design mockups were already spread out across her desk—but her eyes weren’t on any of them.Her assistant, Lia, entered quietly with a thick, cream-colored envelope in her hand.“This just arrived by courier,” she said. “It’s… expensive.”Ximena raised an eyebrow, reaching for the envelope. The paper was heavy, embossed with a golden crest. She flipped it open and pulled out the invitation inside.Her breath caught for just a second.It was an official invitation to the **Global Luxury Fashion & Tech Summit** in Paris—**Antonio Fashion had been nominated for the Global Innovation Award.**She skimmed the details quickly, her mind moving fast.Not just the award. The attendees. The timing.But what made her stop completely… was the handwritten note clipped to the top corner. *“I’ve been watching your work from a distance. It’s time we
WANTING MY BILLIONAIRE EX-WIFE CHAPTER 39
The quiet beep of machines filled the private hospital room, but Miguel Ricardo wasn’t listening. He stared at the ceiling with sharp, focused eyes—as if he were trying to remember something important.Pain tugged at his side every time he moved. The bullet hadn’t hit any major organs, but the recovery was slow. Clean shot. Professional. No trace.Carlos entered the room holding a file, dressed in his usual blazer, but today, his posture was tense. He didn’t smile.Miguel didn’t look at him at first. “Let me guess. Nothing.”Carlos exhaled and sat on the chair beside the bed. “The investigation hit a wall. No security footage. No witnesses. No digital trail. It’s being labeled a professional hit—clean and fast.”Miguel’s jaw clenched, but he didn’t show much emotion. His voice was low. “That wasn’t random. Someone wanted me out of the way.”Carlos hesitated. “You think this is business-related? Or something personal?”Miguel’s eyes shifted toward the door. He didn’t answer the questio
WANTING MY BILLIONAIRE EX-WIFE CHAPTER 38
Miguel stepped out of the Ricardo Enterprises building just past midnight. The board meeting had dragged on for hours, and he was exhausted. The underground parking lot was almost empty, the echo of his footsteps the only sound.Carlos had offered to walk him to the car, but Miguel had waved him off with a tired smile. “I’m fine,” he’d said. “Go home. I just need air.”Now he regretted it.As he reached his car and unlocked it, he heard footsteps—quick, purposeful. He turned.Two masked men.“What the—”Before Miguel could reach for the handle, one man lunged at him, slamming him against the car. The second pulled a gun.Miguel fought back. Elbowed the man holding him. Tried to dodge—**Bang.**The gun fired.Pain tore through his abdomen. Miguel stumbled, gasped, and dropped to the ground.The attackers fled.He tried to speak, to call out—but the pain was unbearable. He lay on the cold concrete, eyes fluttering. Blood soaked his shirt.A security guard found him minutes later. “Sir!
WANTING MY BILLIONAIRE EX-WIFE CHAPTER 37
Ximena started her day with rare peace.She moved through Antonio Fashion’s marble halls with her shoulders back, heels sharp, and chin high. #WornAmbition was still trending, not just in Mexico but across South American fashion circles. Women were stitching the phrase into tote bags, quoting her line under profile pictures, resharing her panel video on every platform imaginable.It had been a long time since she’d felt like she was winning on her own terms.She was halfway through a design review—her mind focused on fabric samples, fall textures, and the layering strategy for an international rollout—when the door slammed open.Lisa, breathless, burst in with a tablet clutched to her chest.“Ximena,” she said, voice tight. “We have a problem.”Ximena looked up, frowning slightly. “What now?”Lisa walked over quickly and handed her the tablet. “A distributor just pulled our flagship collection. Effective immediately.”“What?” Ximena took the tablet, her pulse quickening. She scanned t
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