All Chapters of EX-HUSBAND’S LAST CHANCE AT LOVE: Chapter 191 - Chapter 200

ISABELLA’S POVMy fingers remained in his as our legs made their way into the building. The man standing near the door, dressed in his work uniform, muttered a greeting our way, and I sent him a smile in acknowledgement.“The party is happening on the second floor.” My Man informed and led me into the elevator, and my insides raged with anticipation as we waited.Then finally, a ding and the metal door parted to reveal the staff lined up on both sides. Some held onto strings attached to floating balloons. Some were carrying flowers and cakes. And then Rya. She twisted the pointy thing she had in her palms, and I heard a click before shiny sparkling stars shot into the air, landing on me.My lips parted in a smile so hard that my cheeks hurt.“We will miss you, baby girl.” Rya let out and proceeded to hand me a small wrapped box. I leaned in to hug her, my eyes stinging a bit, but I held back my tears. The door to the room that had the food and the drinks was opened. As I made my way

THIRD PERSON’S POVValeria had spent the rest of her day in bed, staring at her account balance of seven million dollars, and her heart started to race so fast that it almost broke her ribs in an attempt to get out of her chest.She had bought clothes, expensive ones, bags, and shoes since she left the Wolfe Mansion without anything. It was a must that she find a man tonight, even if she had to make the first move. Not classy.The voice in her head reminded her.But she didn't care about appearing classy now; what mattered was to survive. She put on a black armless gown that stopped halfway before her knees. There were two big circles on each side, exposing her skin. She strapped a heel on before getting into her Leopard fur jacket. In minutes, she was heading out of the hotel and into the Uber she had booked, her bag and phone in hand.“I see you are going out.” The male voice from earlier today said suddenly, and her heart jumped in fear.She turned to look his way, then released

ISABELLA’S POVPregnant? I clutched onto my stomach, fresh tears soaking my cheeks. Alaric had stepped out with the doctor, and as I lay there on the hospital bed, I couldn't help but heave a sigh of relief. It was finally happening.My lips quaked like leaves beaten by rain.We would finally be a family. I would have someone other than Alaric to shower all my love on. I couldn't stop thinking about what to name them. I wouldn't mind the gender. What mattered was that the baby was ours.Minutes later, the door eased open, and he walked in, his eyes dimmed by something I couldn't pinpoint. A cold knot formed in my chest as it dawned on me that I had never asked for his view on us having kids or if he wanted one.“The doctor said you passed out because you were tired.” His palm found mine, and he pressed it gently as though he feared it might hurt me. “How do you feel?” His tone was almost inaudible.My heart surged in pace.“Fine,” I answered, trying to hide my worry and watched him

ISABELLA’S POVWas love as fleeting as some people said?One second, it conquered all, and the next, it could barely hold some water. His words still rang in my ears as I lay there on the bed. I could hear him knocking on the door and yelling out my name whilst the back of my throat shot with an itch from my continuous crying. My eyes were puffy and aching.Something pressed tightly against my chest, my palm over my stomach as the voice in my head repeated that I had failed my unborn baby by giving it a father who didn't even want its existence.Just like mine. A sob broke free, and my lips quivered.With my arms wrapped around my stomach, I moved my knees closer to my upper body in an attempt to calm myself. How did we get here? Why did he…One thing was sure, he had no excuse, no reason for ignoring my feelings and toying with me like I was nothing. Like we didn't matter. Like our baby wasn't a soul about to be quenched. A soul that had dreams and purpose.Like it wasn't mine.I

ALARIC’S POV“The street became my home.” A smile tugged the tips of my lips. “I made friends and foes. They were mostly kids my age and younger. We lived with love. Smiling as though we had no problem. Eating from the dustbin. The gutters. Sometimes, some store owners were kind enough to leave food for us outside their doors even though we were never let in.” Another breath, and she squeezed my palm again.“Her name was Ingrid. She was nine, her parents died, and she was abandoned by her greedy uncle, who took all her parents' properties and left her to rot out in the street. She had a health condition that required so much money and drugs. She was innocent, Is. Kind, and she loved to paint things and our faces, too. She was the youngest in our circle of four. Our sister. And she liked me the most.”Ingrid’s face flashed in my head. Her two front teeth broke anytime she attempted to smile, the way her orange eyes shone. Her fingers clutched onto the pack of the fractured crayons she