Lahat ng Kabanata ng Divorced My CEO Husband, He Came Begging: Kabanata 221 - Kabanata 230

AlexForty-five minutes.That's how long I'd been sitting in my car across from Maya's building, engine off, watching her windows like some lovesick teenager. Or a stalker. Definitely more stalker at this point.The doorman — a much younger guy than the one who was usually there, with a neck tattoo peeking out from his collar—kept glancing my way. First with curiosity, then concern, now something closer to pity. Like he'd seen this before. Rich guy camps outside building after girlfriend dumps him. Tale as old as Manhattan.My phone buzzed. Marcus."Anything yet?" His voice was careful."No. Her lights are on, but..." I rubbed my eyes, exhausted. "Ah..Tell me you have something.""I tracked the photos back like you asked. The ones Daniel sent three weeks ago." He paused. "They came through a virtual drive, bounced through three different servers. Real professional setup.""Can you crash it?"A pause. "Maybe. But Alex, even if we kill this server, what if he has backups? Physical copie

OliviaMy office looked like a paper bomb had gone off.Donor lists covered every surface—desk, chairs, even the floor where I'd started making separate piles for "definitely gone," "maybe salvageable," and "too polite to say fuck off directly." The phone hadn't stopped ringing since nine AM, each call following the same depressing script."We heard about the Henderson Foundation's decision...""Of course we still believe in Maya's vision, but...""Perhaps we should reassess after things stabilize..."Corporate speak for "we're out." Every single one of them.I'd just finished another round of verbal gymnastics with th

MayaThe envelope slid under my door at 7:43 AM.I knew because I'd been staring at my coffee maker for the past twenty minutes, watching it drip like some kind of meditation exercise. Or maybe just because watching coffee brew was about all the human interaction I could handle these days.The sound—that soft whisper of paper on hardwood—made me freeze. Nobody slid things under doors anymore. They texted. They emailed. They left voicemails I could delete without listening to.This felt different. Official.Wrong.I approached it like it might explode. Cream-colored envelope, expensive paper. My name written in fountain pen—actual fountain pen—in handwriting I recognized but couldn't place.Inside, a single page with the Russo Designs letterhead. The kind of formal notice that made my stomach drop before I even read it.Ms. Maya Vega is hereby notified of an emergency meeting of the Board of Directors of Russo Designs, to be held...Two days. They were giving me two fucking days.My ph

AlexMarcus found me at the gym, which should have been my first warning. He never came to the gym. Said the smell of other people's ambition made him nauseous."Board meeting," he said without preamble, dropping onto the bench next to me. "Emergency session. Day after tomorrow."I set down the weights, sweat dripping onto the mat. "What kind of emergency?""The kind where they're gonna make a full mess of Maya." He pulled out his phone, showing me something—an email, maybe, or a document. The words blurred together. "Your girl's father's been busy. Got people talking about... stability issues, mental fitness, all that corporate bullshit.""She's not—" I stopped. Grabbed my water bottle just to have something to do with my hands. "How do you know this?"Marcus gave me that look. The one that said I was being particularly stupid. "I know things. It's literally what you pay me for.""Right."I drank water I didn't need, my mind already racing. Maya alone at that meeting. No preparation.

Maya"Alex?" My voice came out like sandpaper. "What are you—."He looked like shit. Worse than shit. Hair sticking up like he'd been running his hands through it for days. Stubble that had crossed over from rugged into homeless territory. His shirt wrinkled to hell, probably slept in. Dark circles under his eyes that made him look—Fuck. He looked exactly how I felt."I know." His voice was rough, like he'd been chain-smoking. "I just needed—"He stopped talking. Just fucking stopped, staring at me like I was some kind of ghost.I looked down at myself. The old Columbia shirt that barely covered my ass. No bra, nipples probably showing through the thin fabric. Hair that I hadn't washed in—Ah shit, when was the last time I showered? My underwear had definitely seen better days."You look—" he started."I know what I look like." I crossed my arms over my chest, which only made the shirt ride up higher."No." His eyes moved over my face like he was starving for it. "You look... God, Maya