The Ex-Wife Seeks Revenge のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 81 - チャプター 90

Agatha POV:“You’ve been awfully quiet, my dear. Something on your mind?”Dad’s voice, though weakened by his illness, still held its familiar sharpness, cutting through the silence that had settled between us.He was propped up in his hospital bed, looking frail against the crisp white sheets, but his gaze was as perceptive as ever.I forced a smile, my fingers tracing the edge of the worn, get-well card on his bedside table. “Just thinking about NexGen, Dad. The board meeting next week…”“Ah, the sharks are circling,” he said, a dry chuckle rumbling in his chest. “Don’t you worry about them, Agatha. You’ll handle them. You’re a De Rossi.”“I know, Dad. But it’s a lot. And with you here…” My voice trailed off, the unspoken fear hanging heavy in the air. The fear of losing him, of facing this battle alone.He reac

Nathan POV:“I’m on my way, Agatha. Don’t worry. Everything will be alright.”The words tasted like ash in my mouth, a hollow promise I wasn’t even sure I could keep. But they were what she needed to hear. Desperate, vulnerable Agatha, finally turning to me, finally seeing me as something other than the villain in her story.A surge of something close to… triumph, maybe even hope, flickered within me. This was it. My chance. My opportunity to rewrite our ending, to prove to her, to myself, that I could be the man she needed. The man she deserved.I hung up the phone, the click echoing in the cavernous emptiness of my office. A bitte

Charles POV:“Jasmine, cancel my afternoon meetings.”The words were out before I even registered the thought, a reflex honed by years of wielding power, of snapping my fingers and expecting the world to rearrange itself accordingly. But as I watched Jasmine’s perfectly sculpted eyebrow arch in that familiar, silent question, a flicker of… something akin to shame pricked at my conscience.“All of them, Charles?” she asked, her voice a model of professional neutrality, yet I detected a subtle undercurrent of… concern? Or was I just projecting?I waved a dismissive hand, turning away from the floor-to-ceiling windows that offered a panoramic view of a city I suddenly felt discon

Agatha POV“Charles, what did you say to Nathan?”The question hung in the air of his penthouse, sharp and direct, a stark contrast to the soft jazz music drifting from hidden speakers, the plush velvet couches, the breathtaking city view framed by the massive windows. I watched him carefully, searching for any flicker of deception in his usually open, confident gaze.He turned from the window, a half-empty glass of amber liquid swirling in his hand, his brow furrowed in what looked like genuine confusion.“Nathan? What are you talking about, Agatha?”“Don’t play games, Charles,” I said, my voice steady, my gaze unwavering. “He

Agatha POV:“Agatha, come in, come in! Don’t just stand there like a sentinel, you’re letting all the heat out.”Dad’s voice, though still raspy from weeks of disuse, boomed from the depths of his study, a welcome sound that chased away the lingering chill in my heart.I smiled, shaking my head at his theatrics, and stepped inside, the familiar scent of old books, leather, and his ever-present cigars enveloping me in a comforting embrace.He was sitting in his favorite armchair by the fireplace, a worn leather-bound volume in his lap, his reading glasses perched precariously on his nose. Color had returned to his cheeks, his eyes sparkled with their usual intelligence, and the oxygen tank that had been his constant companion for weeks was now tucked discreetly behind the chair.He looked… like himself again. My father. My rock.“Took you long enough,” he grumbled, a playful glint