All Chapters of Hired My Ex's Sister as Wife: Chapter 371 - Chapter 380

ClintThe highway stretched endlessly ahead of me. I kept my hands tight around the steering wheel, my knuckles pale, and my heartbeat unsettled in a way I hadn’t felt in years. Savannah’s voice kept replaying in my mind, shaky and urgent. It was obvious she was scared, scared enough to betray Melordy but terrified enough to warn me.“She knows, Clint. All of it. You need to go.” She had said. I had heard the tremor under her words. And I knew she was right.I wasn’t surprised that Melordy had finally pieced everything together. She’d always been sharper than the rest of them, always watching, always thinking. Rafe’s death had been messy, and I’d been sloppy letting myself get tangled that deep. I should’ve known it would catch up eventually. So I packed what I could in less than an hour, cleared the office, wiped what needed wiping, and put the city behind me before sunrise. It wasn’t panic that made me leave. It was calculation. If Melordy was on the move, I needed as much distance

ClintMy body protested with each movement I made as I arrived at the safehouse location. The crash had left its signature everywhere. But the pain was familiar. It was noise I knew how to tune out.Inside, the air smelled stale. I locked the door, slid the deadbolt into place, then stood there longer than necessary, listening to nothing really. There were no footsteps, engines idling too long outside or lively chatter. Not that I expected any. Still, the silence didn’t calm me. And so I moved room to room, checking corners, opening cabinets, lifting loose floorboards looking for anything useful. The place was untouched with no signs of a breach. That alone unsettled me. Melordy was efficient. If she hadn’t found this place yet, it meant one of two things, either she didn’t know about it, or she was letting me think she didn’t.Regardless, I dropped my bag on the kitchen counter and finally let myself sit. The chair creaked under my weight and my ribs flared in protest. I gritted my t

SavannahI thought leaving would feel like relief. That once Clint disappeared and the city settled into a new routine, I’d wake up lighter. Like something poisonous had finally drained out of my system. Instead, the opposite happened. Every quiet moment felt heavier, as if the absence itself had weight.I kept replaying everything in my head, not in a dramatic way, but in fragments. Clint stood between me and the board when they were ready to strip me of my position. He was there when the cartel had my head underwater. He did all of that, but he also lied, over and over, and somehow still protecting me while doing it. None of it fit neatly into good or evil. It just… existed in a messy and uncomfortable way that was impossible to ignore.Walking away would have been the clean choice. The obvious one. The kind of decision people praise from a distance because it sounds strong and moral. But strength wasn’t the same as simplicity, and morality had stopped being a choice a long time ago

JulianThere was a particular kind of silence that only existed in offices after midnight. I was always intrigued by how much clarity it offered. But this time it was different. This silence carried weight. It pressed in from the glass walls, and from the decades of decisions that had been made in rooms like this long before I ever sat in one.I had learned to live inside that silence again. Singapore hadn’t changed, not really. If anything, everything here had gotten worse since I left. The company headquarters still smelled faintly of polished wood and ambition. But I had changed, and that made everything feel unfamiliar, like returning to a house that remembered you better than you remembered yourself.Evan sat across from me, with his jacket draped over the back of his chair, and his sleeves rolled up. He looked older than he had a few months ago. Not physically, it was something in his posture, the way his shoulders never fully relaxed.We didn’t talk much as we worked. There was

ColleenI didn’t announce it. There was no dramatic declaration, no slammed doors or raised voices. That would’ve been sloppy, and sloppiness was how people like us got buried.Instead, I did it the way my family taught me to do everything, quietly, through channels that looked routine enough not to draw attention at first glance.I asked for a review. That was all. A formal review of ongoing partnerships, framed as a compliance update. I sent it through legal, cc’d two departments that existed purely to make things look procedural, and waited. I knew which file would be pulled first. I knew which name would cause the pause.The cartel didn’t hide in our records. They didn’t need to. They were there like an open secret, masked by shell entities and friendly intermediaries, but unmistakable once you knew what to look for.Within hours, my phone buzzed with a message that simply said, “Some contracts don’t dissolve. They evolve.”There was no signature. No threat spelled out. Just enoug