Todos los capítulos de Chasing His Ex-wife Back : Capítulo 81 - Capítulo 90

Evelyn woke to the faint light of dawn seeping through the curtains. The house was quiet, save for the occasional shuffle from the kitchen where Liam was already preparing breakfast. The calm morning felt almost unreal after the past few days of chaos—Kent’s kidnapping, the ambush, the lies, and threats surrounding her family. The contrast between the stillness of the house and the storm that had raged through her life the night before made her chest ache. She rubbed her temples, trying to focus, willing the fog in her mind to lift.The memory of Sebastian sitting across from her the night before lingered like a soft ache. His presence had been grounding, a quiet reminder that she wasn’t entirely alone. But even as she thought of him, her heart twisted with conflict. Trust was fragile; love even more so. She had spent years building walls so thick that even she sometimes forgot the shape of her own heart. And yet, he had stayed—quietly, deliberately, offering support without overstepp

The embrace was fleeting but grounding. She drew strength from their innocence, their resilience. And in that moment, a plan formed in her mind—not just to protect, but to dominate the game that had been thrust upon her. Every move would be calculated, every player assessed, every shadow mapped. Abbas, her father, and all those who thought they could manipulate her—she would see them fall in turn.Later, when the children had been settled, Evelyn retreated to her study. The sun had climbed higher, slicing the room with light and shadow. She spread out the documents once more, maps, printouts, and photos aligned with surgical precision. Every detail mattered; every risk was accounted for. Her pulse was steady, her mind sharp. This was no longer about fear. This was about control.She typed out a series of encrypted messages, confirming positions with Marco, coordinating contingencies with Liam, verifying legal protections with her attorney. The network was in place. The ledger, the fac

Evelyn’s POVLiam’s plea landed like an anchor tossed into churning water. She let out a breath that tasted of metal and midnight coffee, the little rituals she clung to when the world threatened to tilt. For a second—only a second—she let herself imagine a life beyond the ledger, beyond the traps and the quiet terror. A life where the loudest sound in her house was a child’s laugh, not the hiss of a phone vibrating with anonymous threats.“I promise,” she said finally, and the word felt fragile on her tongue. “I promise I’ll try.”He studied her as though weighing the truth of it. She saw his shoulders relax fractionally, the way a man allows himself to breathe when someone he trusts gives the smallest nod toward sanity.“Good,” he muttered. “Because if you stop being you—if you let this become a vendetta—there’s a cost you won’t come back from.”Evelyn’s eyes dropped to the spread of documents. The map she’d drawn had become a web of causes and effects; every line she’d traced repre

Evelyn’s POVThe morning after the first stage moved like a slow pulse through the house: measured, quiet, charged. I woke before dawn as if some internal alarm had been wired into my bones. The city outside was a soft blur; inside, the house hummed with the small, ordinary sounds of life—water running, the kettle breathing, the soft footfalls of a child who’d risen early. Ordinary things. Small mercies.I went straight to the study and switched on the monitors. Marco had sent the first batch of findings at three in the morning: payment trails, two shell accounts funneling money toward a private logistics firm, a list of obscure contractors who’d been paid in cash at odd hours. It wasn’t the whole picture—Abbas was practiced at obfuscation—but it was enough to make him flinch. Enough to make a few people in his network pause and call in favors they couldn’t yet name.Liam was already there, mug in hand, eyes raw with sleep. He read the reports the way old soldiers read maps: fast, pre

Evelyn’s POVThe pager in my pocket buzzed a single, urgent vibration that felt like a gunshot in the quiet house. I heard it before I felt it—an instinct, a prickling at the back of my neck that told me something had shifted. The screen flashed: UNUSUAL ACTIVITY — SCHOOL PERIMETER. CHECK NOW. The message was terse, encrypted, and accompanied by a live feed thumbnail from a street camera two blocks from the kids’ school.For a breathless second, the world narrowed to the size of that thumbnail. Rolland’s laugh from the living room. Anastasia’s endless questions about everything. Kent’s slow, steady breathing as he slept. My chest hollowed out with a fear so cold it was almost clinical: they were close.“Liam,” I said, and my voice was nothing like the exhausted monotone that had carried me through the day. It was steel. “Bring me the secure feed. Now.”He was at my side in three steps, the practiced efficiency of a man who’d watched me withstand worse. The laptop woke to life beneath