All Chapters of The Unwanted Wife: Chapter 211 - Chapter 220

The Next Morning………..The car slowed to a stop in front of the towering glass building. My chest tightened as my gaze lifted to the bold silver letters across the entrance: Del Valle…. That surname still carved into stone and steel.I exhaled slowly, pushed the car door open, and stepped out.The morning breeze brushed against me. My heels clicked sharply as I crossed the pavement and entered the lobby. The familiar room greeted me. Only, this time, there were things I didn’t recognize. New faces filled the reception desks and hallways — young employees, unfamiliar eyes glancing curiously at me as I passed. The panels I remember had been replaced with sleek glass partitions. Chandeliers glowed above.Renovations, I realized. This wasn’t the same company I had once walked through. It had been remade, reshaped. Just like everything else.I entered the elevator, the mirrored walls throwing my own reflection back at me. My reflection stared back — short hair now brushing just above my sho

The elevator dinged. The doors slid open, and I forced my legs to move. My heels clicked against the marble as I stepped out into the lobby — and froze.Cameras. Reporters. Microphones in hand. The crowd lingered near the entrance, their eyes scanning for someone, probably for some corporate event.“God…” I hissed, cursing under my breath. The last thing I needed was to be caught here and my face splashed across headlines.Cursing under my breath, I cut through the corridor and pushed toward the back exit. The air here was still, no people around — blessedly quiet compared to the chaos in the lobby. But just before I reached the door, I caught sight of two guards a few meters away. They looked panicked, whispering harshly to each other, and one of them clutched a small bag — a spiderman bag, the kind a little boy would carry.I frowned but quickly looked away. Not my problem. Not now.I was only a step from the exit when a sound stopped me cold. A voice. A woman’s voice. Low and urgen

Zarina’s lips curled, but I didn’t let her speak. “You—”“You talk about family, but you don’t even know what that word means. You use people, and when you can’t get your way, you drag a child into your mess.” My glare sharpened, “That’s not being a mother. That’s being pathetic.”Her painted lips trembled, fury and humiliation warring in her eyes.“You call me two-faced?” I let out a bitter laugh. “At least I never built my entire life on jealousy. At least I never had to steal to feel wanted.”“You—” Her voice cracked, fury shaking her entire frame.I let out a humorless laugh. “You call me two-faced? At least I never built my life on stealing what was never mine. At least I don’t need lies to feel wanted.”That did it. Her composure shattered.“You bitch!” Zarina shrieked, raising her hand, her perfectly manicured nails glinting in the light as she swung at me.But I was faster. My hand shot up, catching her wrist in midair.“No,” I hissed.And before she could react, I struck.Cra

After that, I went back to the house. The moment I stepped inside, the familiar scent of freshly brewed in the living room greeted me. Then came Christopher. He was leaning casually by the staircase, but the instant he saw me, his face lit up.“Hey,” he said, crossing the room in a few strides before pressing a kiss on my cheek. “You’re finally back.”I smiled faintly. “Yeah. Just… had to meet someone.”His eyes narrowed slightly, sharp and knowing. “Someone?”“Regan,” I admitted, with a sigh.The shift in his expression was immediate — his jaw tensed, his playful ease vanishing in a heartbeat. “You what?”“Chris—” I sighed, holding up a hand before he could start. “I met him to end everything. I agreed to his condition so we can finally move on.”He stared at me for a long moment, his gaze unreadable, then finally looked away, his eyes fixed somewhere distant. Then, after a while, he exhaled softly, the tension in his shoulders loosening. Without a word, he stepped closer and pulled

I sighed and stopped what I was doing, the half-folded clothes forgotten on the bed. The air inside the room felt heavy, so I stepped out onto the balcony, letting the cool breeze brush against my skin. I closed my eyes, breathing in, trying to clear my thoughts — until my phone buzzed.An unknown number flashed across the screen. I hesitated for a moment before swiping to answer. “Hello?”“Anastasia?”I froze. That voice —deep, rough around the edges — I’d know it anywhere. “Regan?”“Yeah.” A slow breath. “Hi.”It was awkward. Painfully awkward.“I, uh… tried contacting you,” he started, his voice uncertain, almost hesitant. “But I didn’t know your number. I even tried asking Chris, but, well… he didn’t—which I expected. Fortunately, um… the divorce documents had it, so—”“Just tell me what you want,” I cut him off, sharper than I intended.He cleared his throat. “Are you—uh—yeah, sorry. Are you… available later?”I frowned slightly. “Later?”“I was thinking we could go out. Just di