บททั้งหมดของ Ex-husband’s Regret: Revenge So Sweet : บทที่ 131 - บทที่ 140

Cynthia’s POVI sit on my bed, my fingers curled into tight fists as I replay the incident at the party. The laughter, the gasps, the humiliation. My dress clinging to my body, the cold water shocking my system as I struggled to stay afloat, my vision blurring with fury and shame. The memory is so vivid it makes my blood boil.Before I realize it, I’m on my feet, my breath coming in short, sharp bursts. My nails dig into my palms as I recall Claire standing by the pool, her gaze steady—too steady. She had pulled back her hand at the last second, as if she had sensed something. My jaw clenches. Isabel hates water. She doesn’t even know how to swim.My eyes widen, my pulse racing as a thought slams into me. I scoff, shaking my head, but the suspicion lingers, growing stronger. Could Claire have sensed what I was about to do? Could she have known I was moments away from pulling her in?I push my hair back, frustration coursing through me. That was my perfect chance. If I had dragged her

Collins’ POVI pull into the parking lot, cutting the engine before stepping out. It’s going to be a long day—I can already feel it. As I make my way toward the building, something tugs at my mind. Did I send that file out earlier?I stop in my tracks, mentally retracing my steps. Damn it. If I didn’t—Then it clicks. I did. A sharp exhale leaves my lips. That would’ve been a disaster.Just as I turn to keep walking, I collide with someone—hard. Aria.Her hands flail as she loses balance, and without thinking, I grab her before she hits the ground. My heart nearly stops. The thought of her actually falling makes my chest tighten. But then she regains herself just as quickly, pulling away like my touch burns her.She bends, gathering her scattered belongings, her movements quick and dismissive. Shit. I crouch to help, but my eyes land on the phone she clutches tightly. The screen is cracked.I swallow thickly. “Is it—”She snatches it closer to her chest and stands abruptly, her gaze m

Isabel’s POVI smile, snapping out of my thoughts. If Cynthia thinks I’m going to be scared of her for whatever reason, then she’s kidding herself. Whatever she’s here for, I’m ready for it.Cynthia chuckles, her shoulders shuddering slightly as she looks directly at me, probably sensing the tension in the air. “Oh my! I was just kidding. Don’t tell me you took it that seriously?”I scoff. “Of course not,” I say smoothly, my tone light but with just enough bite to let her know she doesn’t matter.For a brief second, her smile falters before she braces up again. “But… on the other hand, I did expect your call. Or maybe a visit? You know, as friends do.”I push down the irritation rising in me, leaning slightly forward. “Not when you broke the friendship rule. Or did you forget our last discussion that night?”Cynthia’s eyes flicker, a sly look crossing them. “Oh, about that,” she murmurs, tilting her head as if in thought. “I’m not supposed to say this now, but don’t you think you shou

Aria’s POVI wake up with a pounding headache, the kind that makes me want to bury myself under the covers and disappear. I press my fingers against my temples, my hand ruffling through my hair as I try to ground myself.Coffee—yeah, I need coffee. Something strong enough to stop the room from spinning.My eyes finally crack open, and I’m hit by the unfamiliar sight of the room around me. It’s… luxurious. Like the kind of place you see in ads, not where I’d ever find myself on a regular morning.The bedding’s crisp and thick, the air scented faintly of cedar and linen. There’s a softness to everything, even in the light filtering through the heavy curtains.For a second, I just blink, trying to let it all sink in, wondering how I even got here.Then the fog in my head starts to lift. Little fragments of last night come together: the Castillo building, a crowded bar, way too many shots… and him.I sit up quickly, clutching my head as the rush of motion makes it throb even harder. I was

Isabel’s POVI trudge up the stairs, my legs heavy like they’re weighed down by sandbags. Each step feels harder than the last, my shoulders slumping as I grip the railing to keep from stumbling.Talking to my mother, trying to justify the twins calling Roy “Dad”—it’s like I’ve been drained of everything. My head throbs, and even the soft lights lining the hallway feel like they’re pressing down on me.Argh. But why do I feel like I’ve just dug my own grave? I blink, trying to connect the dots. I mean, ever since the kids started calling Roy ‘Dad,’ they’ve wanted us together more than ever.Tonight, the twins had been relentless, insisting I go on a date with Roy now that my project was done. They didn’t just want dinner—they wanted something real. And for them, Roy being ‘Daddy’ wasn’t just a word anymore.In my room, I open my closet, scanning through my options. A dinner date with Roy—well, I need to dress up, if not for him, then for the kids. I pull out a sleek, emerald green dre