All Chapters of Secret Billionaire Divorcee: Chapter 201 - Chapter 207

Caroline's Point of ViewThe bell above the door jingles when it swings open, but I don’t look up right away.I'm at the counter, polishing a silver chain with slow, careful motions, pretending not to notice who just walked in. I don’t need to look. I know that heavy, dragging sound of his boots across the marble floor. I know the way the air changes when he’s near — heavier, familiar in a way that still manages to unsettle me.I keep my head down.Maybe he’ll leave.Maybe he’ll realize there's nothing left to say.But he doesn’t. He moves closer, the floor creaking under his weight."Caroline," Knoxx says, voice low.I finish buffing the chain and set it down neatly on the velvet mat before I lift my gaze.He looks terrible.Unshaven. Hollow-eyed. His jacket hangs loose on his frame like he forgot how to take care of himself. He doesn’t even try to pretend he’s fine. For once, Knoxx Wayne is stripped bare in front of me.And somehow, seeing him like this doesn’t bring me satisfaction

Caroline's Point of View I don’t usually turn on the television during breakfast. The apartment is quiet, and I like it that way. But this morning, I let the noise fill the silence.The news is on. Business segment. I don’t think twice about it until I hear his name.“Knoxx Wayne, CEO of Wayne Holdings, has once again made headlines with the launch of his latest renewable tech venture—”I freeze.My fork hovers midair. My appetite disappears.And then, there he is.Knoxx.The screen shows him standing in front of a line of men in suits. Flashing cameras, microphones shoved in his face, reporters circling like vultures. The same stage, the same performance I’ve seen him give a hundred times.But this time, it’s different.He doesn’t look like Knoxx.He looks thinner. Pale. The tailored suit hangs looser than usual. His smile is weak—hollow. Like it’s something he’s forgotten how to do but remembers he’s supposed to.His eyes don’t shine the way they used to when he talked about his wo

Knoxx’s Point of ViewI know something’s off.It starts small—barely noticeable, really. But over the past few days, I’ve seen it again and again.The little girl who once clung to me so tightly now barely reacts when I come home. She used to run into my arms, squeal, call me “Daddy” like it was the most natural thing in the world. Now, there’s a pause. A flicker of hesitation before she says it, like she’s trying to remember that she’s supposed to.And I pretend not to notice.I tell myself it’s just a phase. That maybe she’s tired. That maybe she’s distracted. That maybe… she still misses Dolly.Yesterday, I brought home her favorite cookies. Or what Dolly claimed were her favorite. The girl blinked at the box like she didn’t recognize it.“Don’t you love these?” I asked, crouching down to her eye level.