Semua Bab Divorce to Destiny: Reclaiming My CEO Husband: Bab 431 - Bab 440

(Winona)She types on her phone and then my phone buzzes.It’s a text from Lisa. I look at her and she winks at me.Meeting him for dinner. I’ll show him your note, so he gets what’s going onI nod and type back.Make sure he’s fully on board with how crucial this isLisa nods. “I guess we have a lot to plan to get back to the States. And once we get there.”“Being back in the States without Jayden... I don’t know, Lisa. The idea of single parenting all over again—it’s overwhelming. The questions from everyone.”Lisa crosses her arms, leaning back against the counter. “You’ve done it before, though. You’ll do it again. You don’t owe anyone explanations.”“Yeah, but it still feels daunting,” I admit. “I have no place to live there. Jayden’s penthouse is not an option. I refuse to go back there, feeling like I’m waiting for him to come home when he isn’t.”Lisa tilts her head, her brows knitting together. “Well, if we do cruise home, that will give you some time to secure something, may

(Winona)I sit at the dining table, laptop open, and browse through cruise options, trying to piece together a plan that makes sense. Every search result that pops up seems to end in Florida.The very name of that state sends a shiver down my spine. Cancun isn’t all that far from Florida, and the memories of Cass’s kidnapping creep back in, making my stomach clench. It feels like a warning, a reminder that danger is never far away.I guess that was one disaster that Judy didn’t have her hand in. Gus took the fall and is headed for jail as a traitor to stop the crime syndicate from targeting his family.But the fact is, that smuggling ring runs deep and wide. They are still in operation and Greg’s secret Cuban family have direct links. Nothing has been proven against Gabriel.I don’t know what the situation is with him and Cass. But I force myself not to stress over that now.I sigh and click on another tab, this one for a road travel planner. Flying directly from Florida to our final

(Winona)I sit in the starkly white exam room, tapping my fingers on the cold metal armrest of the chair. The anxiety radiates through my body as I wait for the doctor to return with my medical history files.Klara assured me he was one of the best general doctors in Brussels, known for his discretion and thoroughness.The door swings open, and Dr. Fischer, a tall man in his early fifties with wire-rimmed glasses, strides in. His accent is distinctly Germanic, every word precise and measured. He offers a smile, but there’s something reassuringly serious about his demeanor.“Ah, Frau Brennan,” he says, settling into the chair across from me and clicking open a folder. “I have reviewed your medical history and current concerns. How are you feeling today?”I shift uncomfortably. “Physically, I’ve been okay. A little queasy this morning, but nothing alarming. Mentally... well, there’s a lot riding on this pregnancy.”He nods, his brow furrowing slightly as he reads through my file. “Yes,

(Cass)“Cass,” Chef Thierry’s voice cuts through the chaos, sharp and commanding. It’s nice to hear an English word at last. I haven’t hear many in three days.I glance up, still scrubbing. He’s standing a few feet away, holding a small bowl in one hand and a spoon in the other. His expression is inscrutable, his sharp features etched like stone.“Here. As you are the… ‘ow you say, soup expert…” He gestures with the spoon, offering it to me. “Taste.”I wipe my hands on my apron, glancing around.They can be scared of him. I’m not. He’s just a man doing a job, like any other man.Taking the spoon, I dip it into the soup he’s holding and taste.The flavors bloom on my tongue—rich, earthy, with a faint hint of bitterness. It’s incredible, no question, but... there’s something missing.Thierry’s eyes narrow as he watches me, waiting. Almost daring me to defy him again.I grab a clean spoon, dip it into a jar of honey I’d seen him use earlier, and swirl a small amount into the soup. Then I

(Winona)The cottage is alive with movement as staff bustle about, tidying rooms and preparing meals. I sit on the couch, sipping peppermint tea, and trying to make sense of my swirling thoughts.The kids are at school, which gives me a rare morning of peace—or at least as close to peace as I can get with my life.The front door creaks open, and Lisa strides in. She’s wearing a bright, flowy dress I don’t think I’ve seen before, her cheeks glowing pink, her smile practically lighting up the room.“Wow,” I say, setting my cup down. “You look like someone just proposed to you. How is cloud nine? It’s been a minute since I visited.”Lisa laughs, dropping her bag by the door. “Not quite a proposal. But if he did, I wouldn’t have said no.”I blink, taken aback by her reply. Lisa never says things like that—not without a heavy dose of sarcasm. “Okay, spill. Where have you been? I haven’t seen you since you said you were having dinner with Lance, night before last. What happened?”She flops