All Chapters of Abandoned by Ex, Married to His CEO Brother: Chapter 371 - Chapter 378

They stopped in front of a plain door set into an unremarkable building. There was nothing to distinguish it from any other: no sign, no number that Harry could see. Oliver didn’t hesitate. He let go. Harry hit the ground awkwardly, his knees buckling as he stumbled forward. He barely had time to catch himself before the door swung open and a hard shove between his shoulders sent him sprawling inside. He staggered, winded, his hands scraping against the floor as he tried to regain his balance. The door closed behind them with a heavy thud. The third man followed, clicking his tongue softly. “Really,” he said, a note of reproach in his voice. “There’s no need to be so rough.”Kane said nothing. Oliver’s expression didn’t change. Harry straightened slowly, his heart pounding. He took in the room in quick, frantic glances. It was sparsely furnished, the light harsh and unforgiving. The walls were bare, the windows covered. It wasn’t a hospital room. It wasn’t anything like one.“What is

AbigailDaniella didn’t come down for breakfast. It was such a small thing, really, the kind of absence that could easily be explained away by oversleeping or a lack of appetite. But I noticed it immediately. Recently, she only appeared after Alexander had left the house, slipping into the dining room or kitchen for something quick once she was sure he was gone. She had been meticulous about it. Today, there was nothing.I stirred my tea slowly, watching the steam curl upward, unease settling in my chest. It wasn’t concern exactly, more like a tug of curiosity edged with caution. Alexander had told me about their conversation in the garden the night before, about informing her of his decision to send her abroad. Exile was a harsh word for it, but it wasn’t inaccurate either. Daniella had not taken it well. Plus, we didn’t really know her. She had initially presented herself as one thing - soft-spoken and grateful - but then her actions told a different story. People like that were of

Casillas was dragged out of sleep by rough hands clutching at his shoulders. He groaned, swatting blindly, irritation filling him before awareness followed. “Get off me,” he snapped thickly, his voice slurred with sleep. “Nellie, for God’s sake, let me sleep.”The hands did not retreat, but tightened. “You’re under arrest,” a man’s voice said, calm and unmistakably male. That wasn’t Nellie.Casillas’ eyes flew open. For half a second, his mind refused to assemble what it was seeing. The room was too bright, flooded with harsh white light. Shapes moved everywhere, shapes in dark uniforms with unfamiliar faces. Nellie was no longer beside him; she was standing near the far wall in a silk robe, crying openly as a police officer spoke to her in a low voice. His drawers were pulled open. His wardrobe stood gaping, clothes spilling out as officers rifled through it with methodical efficiency. “What the hell is this?” Casillas roared, pushing himself upright. “What are you doing in my house

AbigailI devoured the article like it might vanish if I blinked, my thumb scrolling faster than my mind could fully keep up. Casillas’ name leapt out at me in bold, black letters, followed by words that felt almost unreal in their finality: life imprisonment without the possibility of parole. I read the sentence twice, then a third time, letting it settle into my bones.A slow smile curved my lips. It wasn’t joy exactly. Joy felt too clean a word for what this was, but it was a sharp and deep satisfaction, a closing of a door that had haunted me for far too long. I leaned back into the seat, exhaling softly through my nose as I kept reading. The article detailed the courtroom scene, the judge’s remarks, and the visible reactions of the public. Casillas’ crimes were laid bare in unflinching language: trafficking, exploitation, abuse. Children. Always children.Part of me, a darker, more vindictive part, had hoped for a death sentence. I didn’t pretend otherwise. But as I read on, a di