บททั้งหมดของ Return Of The Killer Ex-Wife: บทที่ 61 - บทที่ 70

LYDIA’S POV“Can you get the fuck out of my way! What the fuck is your problem?! Huh?!”The words pierced the air with the sharpness of shattered glass, each syllable laced with venom that hung thickly in the room. It was a visceral, electrifying moment—the first time I had ever heard anyone address Joshua with such raw contempt. My body froze, rooted to the spot, my mind struggling to process the audacity of the scene unfolding before me. My eyes, wide and unblinking, captured every agonizing detail as if in slow motion. Standing before Joshua was Claire—an old hag with a face that seemed etched by the cruel passage of time, each wrinkle a testament to a life embittered. Her presence was a stark contrast to the sleek, modern office, a grotesque figure in a sea of polished surfaces and pristine attire. Not only was she old and unattractive, but her demeanor was also laced with an audacity that was almost admirable in its boldness.As the initial shock began to fade, I willed myself

“Thank you so much.” I pulled away from Cole after nearly two minutes of sobbing into his broad chest. My body still trembled, the remnants of my emotional storm leaving me feeling raw and exposed. His shirt was damp from my tears, and I could feel the warmth of his body radiating through the thin fabric, a stark contrast to the cool air of the room. My heart felt like it was made of glass, fragile and ready to shatter at the slightest touch.I instantly felt weird and couldn’t bring myself to look him in the face. I used the back of my hands to wipe away my tears, my fingers trembling slightly as I tried to compose myself. The skin around my eyes was puffy and sore, and I could feel the sticky trails of tears drying on my cheeks. “Thank you,” I repeated, my voice barely above a whisper. The words felt inadequate, but I didn’t know what else to say. My mind was a whirlwind of confusion and vulnerability, and I couldn’t understand why he was so quiet.Finally, I gathered enough coura

MIA’S POVLydia and I stared at each other for several seconds as she entered my office. The tension in the air was palpable, like the oppressive weight of an impending storm. The only emotion I felt was heartbreak, a deep, gnawing pain that seemed to consume my very soul. Lydia was the last person I wanted to see. I wasn’t ready for her drama, especially not now, when I was still mourning the death of my daughter.I looked away, unable to bear the intensity of her gaze. Lydia continued staring at me, her eyes narrowed in a frown. Her expression was a mix of irritation and something else, something I couldn’t quite place. Yet, she said nothing, the silence stretching between us like a taut wire about to snap.“We need to talk,” Lydia began, her voice laced with anger, each word dripping with unspoken accusations.I didn’t even look at her. Instead, I closed my eyes and heaved a deep sigh, trying to keep my composure. My heart felt like it was shattering into a thousand pieces, each fr

MIA’S POV“What are you doing here this late?” Cole raised his brows at me. His voice was soft, yet it carried a hint of curiosity and concern. As much as I liked Cole slightly, I just wasn’t in the mood to want to have any conversation with anyone. The weight of the day’s events hung heavily on my shoulders, making even the thought of talking feel like an unbearable burden.I stared at Cole, my vision blurring slightly as I tried to hold back the tears I already had ready to pour out. The lump in my throat grew larger, making it hard to swallow. “I ummm… I wanted some night breeze,” I stuttered, my voice barely a whisper. I gulped down saliva, trying to ease the dryness in my mouth. The cool night air brushed against my skin, but it did little to calm the storm raging inside me.Cole smirked slightly, a playful glint in his eyes. “Okay. I just wanted to have some smell of the books and the fresh air. It helps me sleep better after the day’s work,” he said, his voice gentle and soothi

MIA’S POV“No, when I said prison, I don’t mean the literal meaning of a prison. You know we are talking about your books, and that’s what you decided to use as a figurative term,” I explained while Cole ogled at me in silence. His eyes were like twin searchlights, probing for any hint of deceit. The intensity of his gaze made my skin crawl, and I could feel a bead of sweat trickling down the back of my neck. “When I said prison, I meant when I was locked home with sickness and I couldn’t leave my house.” I forced a tense smile, the corners of my mouth trembling with the effort.Cole joined me in smiling, though his smile seemed hesitant, almost uncertain. His lips twitched as if he was trying to decide whether to believe me or not. Then he nodded his head, and I felt a wave of relief wash over me, though it was tinged with a lingering tension that refused to dissipate. What would I have done if Cole had figured out that I was an ex-convict? The fear of exposure clung to me like a sec