Semua Bab Ex-husband’s Regret: Revenge So Sweet : Bab 91 - Bab 100

Cynthia’s POVI slam my car door shut, the humid Los Angeles breeze doing little to cool the fire simmering inside me. Alexander’s face flashes in my mind—calm, composed, indifferent. Indifferent to me. My heels click sharply against the marble floor of my foundation’s office building, a steady rhythm to my rising frustration. By the time I push open the door to my office, I’m seething.With a frustrated puff, I toss my handbag onto the couch and grab a cup of coffee from the table, pacing back and forth like a caged animal. The warm ceramic in my hand doesn’t soothe me. Instead, it gives me something to hold onto as my thoughts spiral.“He left me. Again,” I mutter under my breath, the words bitter on my tongue. “Not even a damn glance in my direction.” I laugh, the sound hollow and sharp. “I know he’s been avoiding me, but for how long? For how long, Alexander?” My voice rises slightly, and I take a deep breath, forcing myself to calm down.I stop pacing, stare into my coffee, and l

Cynthia’s POVThe night hums with energy as I stand near the entrance, a practiced smile on my face. The gown I chose—a sleek, emerald-green number that hugs my figure and flares slightly at the hem—glimmers under the soft amber lights. Diamond earrings dangle from my ears, catching every flicker of light, while my hair is swept into a perfect chignon, leaving no strand out of place.Guests arrive steadily, each greeted with my charm and poise. Alexander is off to the side, mingling with a group of well-dressed individuals, his expression unreadable as always. My father’s presence, though, is the real surprise tonight.I recall our earlier conversation. He hadn’t been interested, his disinterest as familiar as the cold indifference I grew up with—until I mentioned my partner. His response had been subtle, his face betraying nothing, but I felt the shift. Something about Claire Montgomery intrigued him. And here he is tonight, standing among the city’s elite. I purse my lips, half-smil

Isabel’s POVThe applause is polite, the kind that fills the void but lacks sincerity. Cynthia stands on the stage, the perfect picture of poise. Her smile is calculated, her words carefully chosen as she speaks about the partnership.“This foundation,” she begins, her voice smooth like honey yet edged with steel, “is about creating opportunities for those in need, and I can’t do it without our incredible partners. And, of course, a special volunteer who so graciously dedicates her time to this cause—Claire Montgomery.”Her words hang in the air, drawing a wave of approving murmurs from the crowd. I know exactly what she’s doing—painting me as the willing participant in her grand narrative, carefully crafting the story she wants the world to see.When she gestures toward me, I plaster on a polite smile and move toward the stage. The applause swells as I climb the steps, the weight of every camera in the room pressing down on me. The event host’s voice booms, welcoming me with an enthu

Isabel’s POVMy heart races, pounding against my ribs like a desperate drumbeat as I strain to make sense of the suffocating dark. My fingers claw at the air, searching for something, anything, but it’s too dark to see. Too dark to breathe. And then I hear it—or think I do—a steady, deliberate breath. It’s close. Too close. A man’s breath, growing louder with every second, each sound a knife against my sanity.Panic grips me like a vice, my throat tightening as I suppress the urge to scream. Who could feel sane in a moment like this? The imagined sound grows heavier, impossibly near, and my mind spirals into chaos. Is he standing in front of me? Watch me? Waiting? My heart slams against my chest as if it’s trying to break free. The darkness feels alive, pressing in, trapping me.Then, like a cruel twist of fate, the lights flicker back on. My vision adjusts, and the room reclaims its reality. He isn’t too close: there’s no breath on my neck. It was all in my head. But there he is—

Cynthia’s POVThe laughter in our small circle drifts around me like meaningless noise as I sip my champagne. I nod politely, feigning interest, but my mind is elsewhere, unraveling threads I can’t quite pull together.Across the room, a flash of movement catches my attention. My gaze locks on Claire and my father, deep in conversation near the far corner of the hall.It’s strange. My father rarely accepts invitations, especially for events like this. He’s always preferred to keep his distance from society’s endless charades. Yet the moment he heard the name Claire Montgomery, he insisted on attending.I push the thought aside, trying to rationalize it. He’s probably just as curious as everyone else, wondering how someone could look so much like Isabel. But deep down, there’s a nagging unease I can’t quite shake.“I know it’s just business,” a voice from our group cuts into my thoughts, dragging me back. “But there’s something in the way Alexander looks at her.”The words land like a s