Todos los capítulos de Chasing His Ex-wife Back : Capítulo 91 - Capítulo 100

Evelyn’s POVThe room tightened when I spoke—like a muscle flexing against a blow. A hush fell; the only sound was the rustle of paper as men who were used to swallowing others’ words tried to find air for theirs. Across from me sat three of Abbas’ most reliable lieutenants: figures who’d handled dirty work so often they’d forgotten how to look surprised. Beside them, a corporate lawyer in a tasteful suit took notes as if the world could still be reduced to margins and clauses. They expected me to crack. They expected the old script: fear, concessions, the soft surrender that followed a whispered threat.Instead I leaned forward and pushed the dossier across the table toward them. “You will also find,” I said, slow and precise, “recorded bank instructions routed through two of your offshore entities to a courier company registered in Brussels. The timestamps match the night your people hit my car. The emails are signed with your Chief Financial Officer’s account, and the server header

Evelyn’s POVOn the drive home that night I thought about the future we were carving out for her—the inevitable battles, the small victories, the cost. Abbas would not relent. He had the arrogance of a man certain of legacy; he had underestimated the ferocity of what that legacy had created in Evelyn.She had declared a war. He’d accepted it, whether knowingly or not. Now the world would see which of them had the stomach, the strategy, and the stubbornness to finish it.I wasn’t naive. I knew the road would bruise us, maybe even rend us. But watching Evelyn that evening—strategic, loving, implacable—I realized one thing with the clarity of cold water: there was no other person I’d rather have leading that charge.And if she asked me, I would stand with her in the dark, keep watch while she slept, move when she gave the word, and, if necessary, carry whatever was left of our world when the dust settled.For now, though, the night breathed gentle over the house. The children were safe f

Evelyn sat at her sleek glass desk, the city lights of Chicago casting fractured reflections across the room. Papers, folders, and encrypted devices were scattered before her, yet her focus was absolute. Each number, each name, each transfer listed in meticulous rows represented not just money but power—Abbas’ power. The kind of power that had haunted her life for years, lurking in shadows, invisible yet suffocating. And now, finally, she had the leverage to corner him.Liam stood behind her, arms crossed, his sharp eyes flicking over her screens. “Evelyn… are you sure about this?” His voice was cautious, steady, but threaded with worry. “Exposing even part of Abbas’ network publicly—this could backfire. It’s one thing to play in private; it’s another to make it so visible.”Evelyn didn’t flinch. “If he thinks I’ll stay in the shadows forever, he’s wrong. He underestimates me, Liam. He’s arrogant, and arrogance makes mistakes. This exposure… it forces him to react. And when he reacts,

The boardroom felt colder than it should have—too many eyes, too many polished surfaces reflecting back at her like questions. Evelyn walked to the head of the table as if she were stepping into battle. Cameras were off, phones closed, but everyone was watching: legal, finance, the key investors who could topple or prop up a company with a single call. Liam and Marco flanked her, steady as anchors. Sebastian lingered near the doorway, hands tucked into his pockets, his posture deliberate and nonintrusive. He didn’t need to speak; his presence mattered.“Good morning,” she said, and the room answered with the low rustle of documents. Her voice was even, but the edges were sharpened by weeks of sleepless planning.She didn’t open with platitudes. She opened with fact—precise, cold, indisputable. “At 09:17 last night, a transfer attempt was made through Hart Overseas, an entity registered to our Midtown project. The beneficiary account belonged to a shell tied to Abbas’ network. We inter

The world celebrated her victory.Evelyn couldn’t feel a thing.Three days had passed since Abbas was arrested, and still the weight hadn’t lifted. Her phone wouldn’t stop ringing — journalists, board members, politicians — all wanting her comment, her face, her version of the story.She ignored them all.In the quiet of her home office, Evelyn sat by the window with a mug of untouched coffee, her gaze fixed on nothing. The headlines still played faintly from the TV in the corner.BREAKING: Business tycoon Abbas Karim officially charged on multiple counts of fraud, embeHer name was tied to his in every article.Her victory had made her untouchable.And yet, for the first time, she felt fragile.The door creaked open softly.“Still awake?”Evelyn didn’t move. She knew that voice — low, steady, laced with concern she wasn’t sure she deserved.Sebastian stepped in, leaning against the doorframe. His tie was loose, his sleeves rolled up. He looked exhausted but grounded, as if he’d been c