All Chapters of Not His Wife Anymore: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

Naya's Pov“Takes one to know one.”The smirk on Adrian’s face was the last match to the fire already roaring inside her. Heat and disbelief surged up her throat.Naya’s scream tore through the polished quiet of his office. She didn’t even hear the words at first—only felt the sound push from her chest. Her eyes landed on the nearest object—a framed photo of Adrian shaking hands with some politician. She snatched it up and hurled it toward the wall.Glass shattered in a sharp, satisfying burst.“You bastard!” she spat, already moving for the heavy crystal paperweight on his desk.Adrian didn’t flinch. “You’ll have to do better than that, sweetheart.” His voice was lazy, amused.Her hand swept across the desk, sending papers, pens, and a coffee cup crashing to the floor. The liquid bled into his expensive rug, but she didn’t care. Daniel had moved to stand, like he might intervene, but the glare she cut him froze him in place.The door burst open. Two security guards strode in, their m

The city’s cold air slapped her cheeks as she strode toward Daniel’s office tower. The glass façade shimmered like it belonged to another planet, one where the rules bent for men in suits and women like her got erased.She didn’t slow as she reached the revolving door. Security inside immediately clocked her — the sharp-eyed man behind the desk straightened, one hand sliding toward his walkie-talkie.“I’m here to see Daniel Carter” Naya said, loud enough for the lobby to hear.The guard didn’t even pretend to check a list. “He’s not expecting you.”“I don’t care if he’s expecting me. Tell him Naya Rivera’s here.”“Ma’am—”She brushed past the desk, toward the elevator bank. The guard moved fast, stepping in front of her, his palm out like she was a speeding car.“Back up, ma’am.”“No. He lied. He ruined my life. I’m not leaving until he—”A woman in a headset and pencil skirt hurried over from reception, putting herself between them. “Ms. Rivera, you can’t—”“Don’t say my name like yo

The hallway felt wrong.Not the usual hum of voices or TV noise from the ward.This corridor was narrow, dim, and smelled faintly metallic, like old coins. The walls were bare, no bulletin boards, no faded posters about “healthy coping skills.” Just blank beige and the low, steady buzz of something mechanical behind them.The two nurses walked on either side of her, their shoes making soft squeaks on the floor. Neither spoke. “Walk quickly, lawsuit girl.”Naya glanced at the doors they passed — small, square plaques with numbers, no windows. Everything here looked like it was designed to keep people from seeing in… or out.They stopped in front of a door at the end of the hall. One nurse knocked once, then opened it.The office inside was so neat it made her skin prickle. Papers stacked in perfect piles. A single pen aligned with the edge of a leather desk pad. The blinds on the small window were tilted exactly the same way.It looked like a room waiting for a meeting — waiting for

The knock on Naya’s door was too polite to belong in this place.She didn’t answer. Maybe if she stayed still, they’d think she was asleep.The lock clicked anyway, and a nurse stepped in. “You have visitors.”“I don’t want visitors,” Naya said.“They insisted.”That word — insisted — made her sit up. She’d learned in here that “insisted” meant the staff had already decided it was happening. No matter what she wanted.Two sets of footsteps in the hall. Then Adrian filled the doorway, tall in his tailored coat, his lawyer’s smile firmly in place. Beside him, Chloe — glossy hair, perfect makeup, the faint perfume of someone who never set foot in places like this.Naya’s stomach twisted. “Get out.”Adrian stepped in like she hadn’t spoken. “We thought we’d check on you.”“We?” Her voice was flat, “why? What do you hope to gain? You …” she glared at Adrian. “I'm here because of you. It's all your damned fault.”Adrian shook his head. “I had to….” He looked like he wanted to say more, but

The art room smelled faintly of glue sticks and old paint, like a school classroom that had been left behind. Tables were arranged in a loose square, with jars of colored pencils and half-dried markers in the middle. A staff member with curly hair and tired eyes stood at the front, trying to smile like this was fun.“Okay, everyone,” she said, clapping her hands once. “Today we’re expressing emotions through color. You can draw, paint, collage, or do whatever feels right. No wrong answers.”Naya sat stiffly at her spot, staring at the blank sheet of paper in front of her. She didn’t want to draw her emotions. She wanted her lawyer. She wanted a key to the exit.She picked up a black pencil anyway, just to make it look like she was doing something.“Careful,” a voice to her left drawled. “She might draw the meltdown scene.”It was Eddie. He was wiry, with a Chicago accent, and darting eyes and a mouth that always seemed to curl just before trouble. He leaned across the table, smirking