Chasing the Divorced Billionaire Heiress のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 101 - チャプター 110

JAMES POVI was lying slumped on the central chair in my office; exhaustion was making my bones feel like soaked foam.My breath was shallow, a reminder of the six hours that I just spent in the operating room.One thing about complicated surgeries like the one I just saw through was that same-old feeling of weariness that would settle on top of you hours after it was over. It was like paralysis.Indeed, today had been a tough one. It was actually an arterial graft surgery I handled.And in the few times I have done it, I have always managed to pull through, yet something about it always gnawed at me.I sometimes hate these surgeries, to be honest.Not because of the technical complexity, but because of what they represented as human fragility.And the bluntness of physical rigor.Nevertheless, the successes always made it worth it.I stared vacantly into space, my mind replaying the delicate moments of the procedure all over again.Then, with a heavy sigh, I leaned back further, st

ISABELLA'S POVI was in my sitting room, legs stretched out comfortably, head resting against the cushion.The armrest held my phone, and everything felt calm, at least for the moment. But then I heard the soft vibration of my phone. My gaze dropped casually, my head barely moving, expecting another notification or a meaningless message.But the tiny icon that caught my eye wasn’t a call or text; instead, it was a barrage of notifications from my social media app.The casualness in my posture disappeared, and I sat up sharply, my hand darting for the phone.I unlocked it quickly, as I wondered what could be behind such a sudden surge of activity.My fingers moved almost automatically, logging me into the app.And then, with an automatic quickness, my face tightened with confusion as I saw the unbelievable number... over a thousand mentions of my username on the app.I clicked on one of the notifications, my heart rate quickening.It didn’t take long before the cold, paralyzing shock

GENERAL POVOwen threw his legs forcefully as he marched through the hospital’s corridor, his face red with fury, his footsteps echoing.Claire's description repeated in his mind, and with each step, his anger intensified. The moment he got to the third floor, he stopped to look around the area; his fists tightened at his sides like a gladiator. Then he turned sharply to the right, barreling down the rear, too focused on his destination to notice much else... until, without notice, he suddenly collided with a large, robust figure in suit.The man staggered back, a middle-aged doctor with streaks of white in his dark hair. A sthethoscope around his neck.The man’s face twisted in a wince as he grabbed his shoulder where Owen had knocked into him. He looked at Owen expectantly, clearly waiting for an apology.But Owen's red eyes had no patience for such and looked past him, up to the office door where the man had just come out from.His eyes narrowed on the name tag on top of it, Dr

ISABELLA’S POVThe atmosphere in the boardroom grew tense the moment Robert stood up to make that statement.His cynical, rebellious voice was cutting through the air like a sharp blade.As soon as he suggested a vote to challenge my position as chairlady, I could feel that slight jump in my heart rate.I had not prepared for this, and seeing how Robert had taken advantage of the entire situation, I could not help but feel cornered.Refusing to yield to what he was asking for might end up proving him and the protesters outside the hospital right—that I was indeed a tyrant—and forcing myself on the board.But it could also lead to me losing my position as chairlady just like that and without any prior arrangement.Worse still, without the knowledge of my parents, who had appointed me in the first place.For a moment, the room fell into an unsettling silence, broken only by the faint shuffling of papers and a few muffled coughs.My gaze instinctively locked onto Robert, who stood at the

GENERAL POVIsabella sat upright, her fingers intertwined.Now was the time to pull the veil off the elaborate performance of the past hour and reveal how every twist and turn had fallen into place. Robert had just been dragged away not too long ago; he was supposed to be gone now. She had played her part well—cool, calculated.But there was more to the smooth, well-played story, and the board deserved to know.Her eyes slid over to James once again. The theatrical or perhaps real anxiety into the had been etched in his face had begun to dissolve slowly.He stared at the at the door where Robert had been dragged through once more, then turned to her with a nod. There was something about that nod; this time it was an acknowledgment, a silent agreement between the both of them.Actually, James had been in on the whole act, too. That cold, distant expression from earlier was as much a performance as hers had been. Though she could not swear hundred percent yet.They had worked toge