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CHAPTER 13

Penulis: Ehimen isabella
last update Terakhir Diperbarui: 2025-04-26 19:51:09

Ximena didn’t wait.

The next morning, she drove straight to her father’s estate. The sun had barely risen, but her thoughts hadn’t let her sleep. Her fingers clutched the photo and the letter as the car pulled up to the familiar gates.

The housekeeper opened the door. “He’s in the study,” she whispered, sensing the storm in Ximena’s eyes.

Ximena didn’t knock. She pushed the door open.

Her father looked up from his desk, surprised. “Ximena?”

She tossed the photograph onto the wood surface.

The black-and-white image of a smiling young woman stared up at him.

And then the folded letter landed beside it.

“Camila Antonio,” Ximena said sharply. “Tell me the truth.”

Mr Antonio’s face went pale.

“I don’t know what this is—”

“Don’t lie to me,” she snapped, slamming her hand on the desk. “She was your niece. She died. And you erased her.”

Her father stood slowly. “Camila’s death was… tragic. But it wasn’t my doing.”

“She was going to expose something. That’s what this letter says. That’s why sh
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  • WANTING MY BILLIONAIRE EX-WIFE   CHAPTER 85

    The morning sun spilt gently through the curtains of Ximena’s apartment. She stood by the kitchen island, sipping her coffee while Miguel cleaned the last of the breakfast dishes. The silence between them wasn’t tense—it was comfortable. New. Almost unfamiliar.Miguel dried his hands. “Are you sure you don’t want me to have Rafael reschedule some of your appointments? After last night…”Ximena cut him off with a small smile. “I’m fine, Miguel. Let’s not make a scene out of it.”He nodded, though clearly not convinced. “Alright. But I’m taking you to the office. No arguments.”Moments later, they were in his car. The ride to Antonio Enterprises was quiet, filled with occasional glances and the low hum of jazz from the radio. When they pulled up to the front entrance, Miguel stepped out and walked around to open her door.“You don’t have to play chauffeur,” Ximena teased as she stepped out.“I’m not playing,” Miguel replied. “I just… don’t trust that those thugs have backed off.”Ximena

  • WANTING MY BILLIONAIRE EX-WIFE   CHAPTER 84

    The apartment was quiet.Ximena sat on the edge of her bed, her fingers idly running through her freshly washed hair. She’d barely spoken after Miguel dropped her off. Her brain had been too clouded by everything that had happened.She could still see the flash of steel in the thug’s hand.Still hear the crunch of Miguel’s fists against their jaws.She’d never seen him like that. Unapologetic. Fierce. Protective.He didn’t even hesitate.Her lips twitched at the memory as she pulled the throw blanket over her lap and leaned back against the headboard. “Of all the nights to follow me,” she murmured to h picked the right one.”She shouldn’t smile. She really shouldn’t.But her body had already betrayed her.A small, involuntary curve spread across her mouth, and she sighed.“Damn him.”He saved her.He still *looked* at her like she was something he’d lost and was terrified to lose again. She shook the thought away and got off the bed.There was still work to do.She freshened up—slippi

  • WANTING MY BILLIONAIRE EX-WIFE   CHAPTER 83

    The restaurant was quiet, bathed in a golden glow from chandelier lights and floor-length candles. Sleek waiters moved gracefully between white-clothed tables, and soft jazz floated in the air like perfume. It was the kind of place where every movement was deliberate—every glance, calculated.Miguel Ricardo walked in with shoulders squared, his face unreadable beneath the sharp lines of his tailored charcoal suit. His assistant had scheduled this dinner a week ago and insisted—repeatedly—that it was important.He didn’t care for such meetings. Especially not the kind that came with shareholder strings attached.Vanessa Lugo sat near the window, already sipping from a tall glass of something pale and sparkling. Her black gown shimmered faintly under the light, but nothing was dramatic about her demeanour. She looked up when she saw him and smiled—easy, casual.“No security?” she teased as he approached. “I expected bodyguards.”Miguel gave her a brief smirk as he pulled out his chair.

  • WANTING MY BILLIONAIRE EX-WIFE   CHAPTER 82

    The morning sun filtered through the floor-to-ceiling glass windows of Ricardo Enterprises, bathing the boardroom hallway in a golden hue. Inside his office, Miguel adjusted the cufflinks on his charcoal-grey suit jacket, his expression already etched with irritation.Carlos, his assistant, stepped in, holding a sleek black folder and Miguel’s phone.“Morning, sir,” Carlos said crisply. “Today’s schedule.”Miguel barely looked up. “Hit me.”Carlos flipped the folder open. “You have a shareholders’ strategy meeting at nine. Then the press follow-up regarding the Paris delegation findings at eleven. And at noon…” he hesitated, “…a dinner engagement with Miss Vanessa Lugo—daughter of one of our key shareholders, Mr. Iker Lugo.”Miguel looked up, his brow tightening. “What dinner?”Carlos cleared his throat. “It was arranged last week. Her father insisted on it being added to your calendar. He claims it’s a… relationship-building opportunity.”Miguel rolled his eyes, walking over to the e

  • WANTING MY BILLIONAIRE EX-WIFE   CHAPTER 81

    The soft hum of the jet engines faded into silence as the private plane taxied into its hangar outside Charles de Gaulle Airport. The sky over Paris was silver with early morning fog, the kind that made every surface glint like it had been polished by memory.Ximena stepped off the plane wearing a dark trench coat, a sleek black scarf wrapped around her neck, and oversized sunglasses despite the grey light. Her blonde hair was knotted in a low, precise twist.No security escort.No PR team.Only Rafael stood by the waiting car, holding a tablet, his expression unreadable.“Four hours until final rehearsal,” he said as he opened the door for her. “The room’s already humming.”She nodded and slid into the back seat without a word.They didn’t speak much during the drive. The city unfolded around them—quiet, elegant, unaware of the storm she was about to walk into.Not a scandal.Not revenge.Just fashion.And the truth sewn into every inch of silk and thread.⸻**Grand Auditorium, Paris

  • WANTING MY BILLIONAIRE EX-WIFE   CHAPTER 80

    Paris was unusually quiet that morning.The rain had passed in the night, leaving the streets glossy with light. The marble steps of Hôtel de Verger were swept, the doors polished, the staff in place as cars rolled up one by one.It was the semi-annual **European Fashion Syndicate Luncheon**, a tradition reserved for top designers, board members, legacy houses, and a few rising power players. A place where trends weren’t just discussed — they were decided.Santiago Cortez stepped out of his black sedan and adjusted the lapels of his tailored jacket. He wore charcoal with muted gold pinstripes — subtle wealth, effortless command.Or so he thought.As he entered the gilded foyer, a few heads turned.But not in admiration.Not anymore.A quiet pause fell over the crowd before polite conversation resumed. He noticed it immediately. No greetings. No champagne tray offered. Not even a hostess at the coat check desk addressed him directly.He was used to rooms shifting when he walked in.Thi

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