บททั้งหมดของ Ex-husband’s Regret: Revenge So Sweet : บทที่ 61 - บทที่ 70

Cynthia’s POVI step into my office, my heart thudding against my chest, anger already flushing over me. I take a deep breath, sinking into the leather chair, but I can’t seem to calm down.Her face—Isabel’s face—keeps flashing in my mind. That smug look she gave me, like she’s already won, like she’s got everything under control. Who does she think she is?Bluffing, saying her PA would text me? I scoff, tilting my head to the side. I see she’s playing some kind of rich brat game, isn’t she? She’s really starting to get on my nerves. Or should I just do away with her once and for all? My lips twist into something sly.Argh! Relax Cynthia. You are still getting to know this new Isabel. I try to calm my nerves. Besides, this new Isabel seems to have a lot of interesting stuff on her. I blink, letting a smile play on my lips. Again, my mind flashes to what she said. Damn it! I can’t believe I was stupid enough to sign that damn contract without reading it properly. So now what, huh?

Isabel’s POVI approach him slowly, the scent of his cologne hitting me before I even reach his side. My favorite. Of course. I wonder if he thinks wearing it will somehow make me admit to being Isabel, somehow soften me, and fall at his feet like I used to.As if a mere fragrance could undo the damage. I scoff under my breath but force a neutral expression as I stop by him.“Hello, Mr. Alexander,” I say evenly, offering a faint, professional smile.His gaze sharpens. “Isabel—”I arch a brow slightly, letting my lips curve into the faintest smile. “Claire,” I say coolly, correcting him with practiced ease. My gaze remains steady, piercing through his calm façade, daring him to challenge me.I hold the moment for just a beat longer before brushing past him to take my seat, knowing full well he’s still watching, his tension palpable.The murmur of conversation fades as I settle in. A quiet tension hangs in the air as the meeting begins. I offer a composed smile, flipping open the folder

Isabel’s POVAlexander yanks me to the side, and I stumble forward, almost crashing into his chest. His breath comes in short gasps, as if he’s just run a mile to catch me.I scoff, folding my arms over my chest. “Are you alright?” I ask, sarcasm dripping from my tone. “How can you just pull me out of the party like this?”His eyes blaze with fury, and before I can say more, he cuts me off. “Why do you keep pretending to be someone else? And… and I know it’s all your doing. The rumors spreading among our investors, my mother coming to you—and now this? You’re trying to paint us as beggars, claiming we begged for the contract? How low can you stoop?”I laugh, the sound cold, as I push a stray lock of hair behind my ear. “But your mother did beg. She begged me to save the King’s Empire from shame.” I fold my arms tighter, the mockery in my voice deliberate. “With folded hands, like this.” I fold my hands in plea to mimic her. “Almost with tears, asking that I keep the company’s reputati

Isabel’s POVI lean back in my seat, the call meeting with one of our investors over. My eyes close for a moment, but my mind doesn’t follow. It drifts back to that night after the party, when I asked my mom what was going on. She brushed it off, like always, saying it was nothing. But her actions tell a different story—talks of more security, more bodyguards. Why? What could they be hiding from me?I take a deep breath, trying to make sense of it. I feel lost, like I’ve been walking through fog ever since that night five years ago. Since she’d died in my place. And yet, this feeling… it’s different. Recently. Unsettling. I remember Aurora also telling me that Cynthia had seen the kids at the welcoming party, and I can’t help but feel angry at her for keeping that from me. But at the same time, I know… I know she was only trying to keep my worries at bay. I bite my lip, pouting slightly. I shouldn’t stay mad at her for too long right? I scratch the back of my head. Feeling the w

Isabel’s POVThe conference room buzzes with lively discussion as we delve into the progress of the condo project. Design boards are spread across the table, showcasing various aspects of the interiors and the architectural vision.I flip through the design boards, nodding at the team’s progress, but my mind drifts for a fleeting moment to Scarlett’s question yesterday. “Mommy, can’t uncle Roy be our dad?” Her small voice had been filled with curiosity, her wide eyes searching mine for an answer I wasn’t ready to give.The memory tugs at my chest, a mix of guilt and confusion swirling within me. Scarlett’s innocence made her question feel so simple, yet the truth was anything but. I force myself to push the thought aside. There’s too much at stake with this project to let my emotions derail me right now.“Have you seen the social buzz surrounding the condo project?” Emily, our chief architect, asks, flipping through a tablet displaying a series of trending articles and social media po