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CHAPTER 90

Author: Ehimen isabella
last update Huling Na-update: 2025-07-26 22:51:26

The envelope was sleek—deep navy with gold embossing, the design that told you before opening it that it wasn’t an ordinary event. Ximena turned it over in her hands as she sat in her office, her brows slightly raised.

“A personal invite?” she murmured, glancing at the bold insignia that read: *Holt International: Future of Fashion-Tech Gala*.

Rafael leaned casually against the doorframe, a smug grin on his face. “Told you it was something big. Damian Holt doesn’t invite people on a whim. He selects.”

Ximena gave him a look. “And how exactly did they get my name?”

He crossed the room, tapping a finger against the card. “Word travels fast, especially when a certain woman dominates both the fashion and gossip columns simultaneously.”

She rolled her eyes, but Rafael was already on a roll. “You’re going. No arguments. I’ve already booked glam. They’ll be here by five.”

Ximena opened her mouth to protest, but he raised a hand. “No, no. You don’t get to decline. You’ve worked hard. You dese
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  • WANTING MY BILLIONAIRE EX-WIFE   CHAPTER 91

    The warehouse on the city's outskirts was quiet—too quiet for a place that had just hosted one of the largest underground trades of the quarter. The only sounds echoing through the vast steel-and-concrete interior were the soft thuds of crates being pushed and the low murmur of men confirming goods.Damian Holt stood near the edge of the main floor, arms folded, his three-piece suit spotless even in the dim, dusty lighting. The shadows danced over the sharp planes of his face—half in elegance, half in danger.His reputation in the business world was pristine—CEO of Holt International, one of the fastest-growing investment syndicates in Europe and Africa. But beneath the polished surface, very few knew what powered his empire.Smuggling. Deals. Blood money is laundered through fashion-tech investments and boutique real estate.“Crates four and five cleared, sir,” one of the men reported, closing the lid on a shipment of high-grade untraceable weapons. “Everything matches the manifest.”

  • WANTING MY BILLIONAIRE EX-WIFE   CHAPTER 91

    The warehouse on the city's outskirts was quiet—too quiet for a place that had just hosted one of the largest underground trades of the quarter. The only sounds echoing through the vast steel-and-concrete interior were the soft thuds of crates being pushed and the low murmur of men confirming goods.Damian Holt stood near the edge of the main floor, arms folded, his three-piece suit spotless even in the dim, dusty lighting. The shadows danced over the sharp planes of his face—half in elegance, half in danger.His reputation in the business world was pristine—CEO of Holt International, one of the fastest-growing investment syndicates in Europe and Africa. But beneath the polished surface, very few knew what powered his empire.Smuggling. Deals. Blood money is laundered through fashion-tech investments and boutique real estate.“Crates four and five cleared, sir,” one of the men reported, closing the lid on a shipment of high-grade untraceable weapons. “Everything matches the manifest.”

  • WANTING MY BILLIONAIRE EX-WIFE   CHAPTER 90

    The envelope was sleek—deep navy with gold embossing, the design that told you before opening it that it wasn’t an ordinary event. Ximena turned it over in her hands as she sat in her office, her brows slightly raised.“A personal invite?” she murmured, glancing at the bold insignia that read: *Holt International: Future of Fashion-Tech Gala*.Rafael leaned casually against the doorframe, a smug grin on his face. “Told you it was something big. Damian Holt doesn’t invite people on a whim. He selects.”Ximena gave him a look. “And how exactly did they get my name?”He crossed the room, tapping a finger against the card. “Word travels fast, especially when a certain woman dominates both the fashion and gossip columns simultaneously.”She rolled her eyes, but Rafael was already on a roll. “You’re going. No arguments. I’ve already booked glam. They’ll be here by five.”Ximena opened her mouth to protest, but he raised a hand. “No, no. You don’t get to decline. You’ve worked hard. You dese

  • WANTING MY BILLIONAIRE EX-WIFE   CHAPTER 89

    The soft hum of the office AC greeted Ximena as she walked briskly into her corner suite, heels clicking over the polished floor. Rafael was right behind her, flipping through a folder thick with paper and mockups.“Okay, bridal capsule progress,” he said, barely keeping up. “We’ve got the boutique edits finalised, Lagos production just cleared customs, and the Paris samples are on the way for Thursday’s press review.”Ximena tossed her purse onto the sleek cream couch and pulled her jacket off, revealing a sleeveless silk blouse underneath. She moved with purpose—sharp, poised, too focused to bother with the constant noise outside her office walls.Rafael grinned as he set the folder on her desk. “Also, for the record… the internet thinks you’ve either gotten back with your ex or secretly have a billionaire admirer who sends candlelit rooftops and custom pizzas.”Ximena raised a brow without looking at him. “The internet should spend more time reading quarterly reports.”He laughed,

  • WANTING MY BILLIONAIRE EX-WIFE   CHAPTER 88

    Ximena arrived at Antonio Enterprises before the sun had fully warmed the city. The fashion wing was still quiet—its halls filled only with the soft hum of cleaning machines and the occasional shuffle of early assistants preparing their spaces. She stepped out of the elevator in a crisp white jumpsuit that clung perfectly to her form, her heels clicking steadily down the hallway. Her expression was unreadable, composed, collected—exactly what her enemies wouldn’t expect after a night like last night.As the elevator behind her slid closed, Rafael popped out of the adjacent corridor with a steaming paper cup in hand. His eyes widened when he saw her.“Well, well, if it isn’t the internet’s newest obsession,” he teased, stepping beside her. “Should I start bowing when I enter a room now, or…?”Ximena barely cracked a smile. “You’ve always been dramatic. This isn’t new.”“Come on,” Rafael nudged. “That rooftop picture? The wine, the candlelight—boss, was giving major *ex-lovers in deni

  • WANTING MY BILLIONAIRE EX-WIFE   CHAPTER 87

    The marble floor echoed under Tania’s heels as she stepped into the Ricardo mansion, her expensive perfume lingering like a presence of its own. Everything about her appearance was carefully curated—her sleek white dress hugged her frame in all the right places, her makeup flawless, her hair pulled back into a soft, elegant twist. But beneath all that control, a storm was brewing.She had barely slept after seeing the viral image—Miguel and Ximena on a rooftop, candlelight glinting between two wine glasses, their silhouettes unmistakable. It had taken every ounce of self-control not to scream into her pillow.Now, standing inside the home she had always imagined as her future, Tania knew she had to act. Desperation had given her a strategy.“Ma’am is in the lounge,” one of the maids said, stepping aside.Tania offered a quick smile and moved through the hallway. The scent of chamomile tea and roses lingered in the air.Mrs. Ricardo sat gracefully on the velvet couch, a porcelain teac

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