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Chapter 82: Irreconcilable Differences
publish date:
2026-07-05 18:11:40
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Winning Back My Pregnant Wife Chapter 85: He Must Not Know
Christian“He’s not filing until the day before your anniversary,” I say, tapping the legal document on the screen. “November the second. That’s, what, a week from tomorrow?”Genevieve nods quickly, aggressively chewing on a manicured nail.“So the real question is: What do we do right now?”“I’ll tell you what I’d like to do,” she says, her eyes flashing with a sudden, dark intensity. “I’d like to break his fucking neck.”I pause, letting the silence stretch between us. I look at her closely. “And what if that actually happened?”Genevieve blinks, her entire expression shifting, the manic energy freezing solid.“You’ve always said you care about him,” I press softly, testing the waters. “How much do you actually care about him, Gen?”Genevieve walks slowly over to the window, her back to me as she looks out over the gray, shadowed alleyway below. My guess is she’s spent the last forty-five minutes of her drive over here asking herself that exact same question.“If he dies suddenly,”
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ChristianI come into work like every morning. A quick, easy hello to my receptionist, Emily, and then I walk straight into my private office.As I am not actually a financial guy, I don’t really need this office space, but appearances are appearances in this game. Besides, I’ll go completely crazy spending the entire day at home by myself. A change of scenery is nice. It keeps the edges sharp.Sometimes I do actually work while I'm sitting here. Though “work” for me isn’t checking the stock markets and forecasting high-yield investments; it’s scouting for fresh targets and considering other wealthy cities for my next venture. But now that I’ve found Genevieve and her twenty-one million dollars, I won’t need any other targets. I’m going to be completely done soon. Retirement is right around the corner.For Emily—a nineteen-year-old I pulled from a local temp agency who is going to college part-time—I play the exact same role I play for Genevieve: a rich, genius money guy who only hand
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Winning Back My Pregnant Wife Chapter 82: Irreconcilable Differences
Julian*Irreconcilable differences.* The phrase that launched a thousand ships. It’s the legal term that describes, in the blandest possible prose, the countless, jagged complexities that compel a couple once in love to go their separate ways.“I’m not right for you,” Genevieve had said the first time I proposed to her when we were younger. In hindsight, I think she actually meant that I wasn’t right for *her*. “Our differences would be irreconcilable,” she might as well have said. And she would have been right.I walk down the hallway from my home office to the master bedroom. The house is completely quiet, save for the muffled sounds of the city waking up outside. Genevieve is fast asleep, her face buried deep into the pillow, oblivious to the shift in the air.Looking at her, my mind slips backward, drifting to a completely different room, years ago.“The best part of my life is you,” my mother had said to me on what ended up being the last day I ever saw her alive. We were sitting
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JulianJulianFriday night in Manhattan usually means people are either carving out time for their families or blowing off steam over a couple of heavy drinks with friends. Me? I’m buried alive in my office at the firm, staring down a blinding spreadsheet, trying to compile and sort through the list of logistics workers who have been paid and the ones who haven’t, alongside a stack of new applications that just hit my desk.The silence in the room is suffocating, but it matches the emptiness waiting for me at home. I have the entire house to myself this weekend. Genevieve is off on another one of her sudden business trips. Honestly, it’s only a matter of time before she and I finally call the breaks on whatever the hell it is we’re still doing, but she doesn't seem to want to let me go just yet. So, I do what I always do when the walls start closing in: I work. I work way later than usual, tracking rows of numbers until well after eight o’clock, just waiting for the city to quiet down
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Marcus I reach down, popping her breast completely out of the lace cup of her bra and immediately sucking her dark nipple into my mouth, swirling my tongue around it. “Would you have done it?”I lift her skirt, bunching the fabric around her waist. The panties she slipped on this morning after I had her for breakfast are sexy as fuck, but they’re in my way. I grip the thin lace sides and ruthlessly rip them apart, stuffing the shredded fabric into my suit pocket. I refuse to lose connection with her for even a second to take them off properly.“I liked those,” she pants, her voice tight.“So did I.”Her thighs tighten like a vise around my waist, her heels digging into my lower back. She’s trying to line her center up with my erection, but she’s just an inch out of reach to accomplish it.“You didn't answer my question,” I continue, reaching between our bodies to find her absolutely soaking wet. Her breath hitches violently as my fingers slide over her drenched clit.“Remind me... wh
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