All Chapters of Married to my Ex's Father: A tale of revenge : Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

The van stopped with a jolt.Mia’s shoulder slammed into the metal wall, and she hissed softly, the sound swallowed by the hum of the engine. For hours, the windows had been blacked out, and the only light came from the slit between the doors. She had no idea where she was anymore—only that every turn felt like a nail being driven deeper into her chest.When the door finally opened, a burst of air hit her face—stale and sour, like sweat, cheap perfume, and disinfectant that couldn’t quite hide the rot underneath.“Out,” one of the men barked.Her legs shook as she climbed down. The building loomed in front of her—a narrow, peeling structure tucked between warehouses. No windows on the lower floor. A red light flickered weakly over the doorway.Inside, it was worse.The hallway was dim and narrow, the walls stained by years of hands that had passed through. The sound of muffled laughter came from somewhere deeper within, followed by music that didn’t quite reach the notes it was trying

The following morning, before the sun rose in the sky, the door to the room where the girls slept bursted open. Vince's loud voice echoed across the room. "I want everyone up this instant." "And why is this place so dark?!" His hands found the switch and turned the entire lights in the room on. Some of the girls tried to block the light from getting into their eyes as they turned in their beds. "I said get up, right this instant and don't make me repeat myself!" He barked again. Mia's eyes fluttered open. She was upset with the rude awakening. She was about to protest when she suddenly remembered where she was. Her back straightened in the bed. With a frown settling on her face, she rose from her sleep and sat on the bed. The other women followed suit. Mia tried to make out what time it was that morning and why Vince had barged into the room, awakening everyone so rudely. "Lily!" Vince's came again, "where is she?!" He asked. Everybody seemed to turn their he

The new city breathed money the way old cities breathed dust. Neon lights bled into the wet streets, painting reflections like wounds. From the top floor of the Horizon Tower, Logan watched the skyline burn with industry. Inside the conference suite, the air was a low hum of tension. Seven men sat at the table, all sharks in different suits—import barons, fuel smugglers, data brokers. None of them spoke first. Not while Logan poured his whiskey. The sound of liquid hitting glass was almost ceremonial.He didn’t sit right away. He let the silence stretch thin, the kind that made men clear their throats just to prove they were still alive.“Gentlemen,” Logan said finally, in a smooth voice, practiced. “We’ve built rivers of money. But rivers dry when the climate shifts. Ours is shifting.”They waited. None of them understood yet if this was a warning or an opportunity.Logan walked to the panoramic window. His reflection was sharp enough to cut. “The government is draining our channels

Jason hadn’t even been at Velvet smoke for a full week, yet the place already lived under his skin like a fever. The music. The strangers. The smoky air that clung to everyone’s lungs like something earned, not breathed.Tonight, he was working floor duty—running drinks, keeping drunks in check, helping the dancers to and from the stage. The dancers strutted on stage with glitter on their skin like constellations, and Jason, despite knowing better, kept catching himself staring too long at the ones who smiled at him.“Jay, table six!” Maria, the bartender, shoved two glasses into his hands. “They’re already pissed off—hurry.”Jason nodded, weaving through the crowd, keeping his shoulders tight to avoid drunken elbows. Velvet smoke always felt like it pulsed—like a heartbeat made of bass and lust.But tonight, something was off.Table six was occupied by three men in expensive suits. The kind of men who didn’t come to clubs because they were lonely, but because they liked to be kings

The street outside the bar was half lit, half forgotten. The neon sign above the entrance buzzed like a tired insect, flickering between blue and nothing. Jason pushed the door open and stepped into a wall of warm air and noise.The place was crowded—packed enough that shoulders brushed when people turned, glasses clinked every few seconds, and the smell of beer and wood polish hung thick in the air. Rafe’s Bar was always busy after nine. It was the kind of place where people came to lose themselves, not talk about the things that broke them.Jason didn’t belong here tonight, but he didn’t know where else to go.Rafe was behind the counter, moving with the energy of someone trying to do five tasks at once—pour a drink, wipe the counter, yell at a drunk who kept knocking on the jukebox, and laugh at a joke someone shouted from across the bar. He was a big man with broad shoulders, a beard starting to grey, and eyes that always seemed to know too much.He spotted Jason immediately.One