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CHAPTER 58
Last Updated:
2025-07-06 23:13:44
Latest chapter
WANTING MY BILLIONAIRE EX-WIFE CHAPTER 73
The silver invitation card was resting on Rosa’s desk when she arrived that morning.Thick paper. Black foil lettering. Clean edges.No memo header. No sender.Just one sentence.*“Private Strategy Session – 8:30 AM | Antonio Penthouse Rooftop Lounge.”*Rosa stood frozen, holding the card in her hand, her eyes scanning it again and again like the words might change. A rooftop strategy session? With Ximena?This wasn’t protocol. Ximena didn’t host meetings outside her office unless it was to humiliate or reward someone—and Rosa didn’t think she was due for either.Not yet.Her mind raced. Had they found the logs? The sketch? Had something been decrypted?She glanced around. No one was looking. No one had approached her. She hadn’t received a message, a glare, or a warning.Just… breakfast?Her hands trembled slightly as she opened her desk drawer and slipped the invitation inside.⸻The rooftop lounge of Antonio Tower was elegant without trying. Ivory stone tiles, minimalist glass furn
WANTING MY BILLIONAIRE EX-WIFE CHAPTER 72
The elevator descended past the executive floors with a low hum, gliding into the restricted levels that few at Antonio Fashion had ever seen. Ximena stood alone in the mirrored interior, her reflection motionless but charged. She hadn’t changed from the moment she ended the call with Marco—still in the same sleek navy sheath dress, still wearing the same quiet fury like armour.When the doors opened, the temperature dropped noticeably. Sublevel B was cold, both in design and atmosphere. No velvet chairs. No glass chandeliers. Just reinforced steel, matte security panels, and archive vaults sealed with biometric locks.Marco stood waiting beside Terminal 3, fingers tapping over the glowing display. The screen showed the Geneva Proxy Vault login page—Camila’s personal off-grid storage route. It had been rerouted through a legacy access point she installed before her death, hidden behind non-operational tax records and corporate liability forms.Until tonight, no one had touched it.“Y
WANTING MY BILLIONAIRE EX-WIFE CHAPTER 71
The morning light spilt across the marble floors of Antonio Fashion, too bright for the tension crawling beneath them.Ximena stood beside Marco in the executive operations room, both of them staring at a narrowed-down list of six names on the screen. The list was short, but each one carried enough weight to sink a company.“These are the only legacy access holders still active?” she asked.“Officially? Yes,” Marco replied, tapping the screen with the tip of his stylus. “The rest were either wiped when Camila’s division was dissolved or voluntarily closed out.”Her eyes skimmed the names again. One stood out immediately—**Cristina Mendoza**, her former assistant. Fired for insubordination and data mishandling two quarters ago. At the time, it had seemed minor. Now, it looked like a breadcrumb.Another name pulled her attention harder.**Rosa Navarro.**Not just for her presence on the list.But because her login appeared on two separate terminals—**once in Madrid**, and **once again i
WANTING MY BILLIONAIRE EX-WIFE CHAPTER 70
The Antonio Fashion boardroom was silent.Too silent.Ximena stood near the wide-screen monitor mounted on the far wall, arms crossed over her midsection, her fingers lightly tapping her elbow as the call connected. On-screen, the logo of **Evora Luxe** glowed in white against a black background while the executives joined one by one—Jean Marelle first, then Sophie Liu, followed by a third man whose name she didn’t recognize.It was an unusual trio. Jean was the Global Director of Buyer Partnerships. Sophie oversaw creative liaison. The third man—she assumed—was legal.That didn’t bode well.“Ms. Antonio,” Jean greeted her smoothly. His tone was professional, polished, even warm. But Ximena had sat across from enough men like him to know when someone was about to deliver bad news in a velvet box.“I hope this isn’t interrupting anything important,” he added.“Only my day,” she replied, tone even. “You requested an urgent meeting. I assume it’s more than a courtesy check-in?”Jean exch
WANTING MY BILLIONAIRE EX-WIFE CHAPTER 69
Ximena arrived at the office earlier than usual. The city was still shaking off its sleep; the streets were quieter, the morning air crisper. A light haze clung to the horizon, but inside the Antonio Fashion headquarters, everything already felt too loud.She didn’t wait for coffee. She didn’t even greet anyone at the reception. Her heels clicked sharply against the marble floor as she made her way to the executive wing, jaw tight, eyes focused. Rafael’s message had said only one thing: *“Come in early. Board alert.”*As she reached her door, she found Rafael standing outside it, phone in one hand, tablet in the other. He didn’t say a word. His expression was grim.Inside the office, Marco was already seated, sleeves rolled up, a tablet of his own open in front of him. One of the company’s senior legal counsels—Eduardo Marquez—sat across from him, visibly uncomfortable, a thick printed file resting on his lap.Ximena closed the door quietly behind her, then removed her coat and placed
WANTING MY BILLIONAIRE EX-WIFE CHAPTER 68
The sky over Mexico City was still dark when Rosa stepped into Antonio Fashion’s main building.She used the back entrance. Not because she needed to—but because she didn’t want to pass through the glass lobby, or feel the eyes of security trailing her.She hadn’t slept.Her hair was tied in a messy knot, her blazer slightly rumpled, the circles under her eyes deeper than usual. She hadn’t touched her usual red lipstick. She didn’t want to be seen.She carried a flash drive in her pocket.The final one.This was it.She told herself—once she did this, whoever was behind it would leave her alone. She could walk away. Go back to being invisible.But as she passed the quiet floor of the legal department and entered the design wing, Rosa felt something crawling under her skin.Guilt?No. That wasn’t new.It was something sharper now.Fear.She turned into the vault terminal corridor and found the auxiliary rendering bay—an outdated terminal once used for prototype texture loading. Barely
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