All Chapters of Chasing The Stubborn Ex-Wife: Chapter 71 - Chapter 80

The sun, a brazen orb, shone brilliantly through the towering floor-to-ceiling windows of James Whitaker’s penthouse office, casting long, stark rectangles of light across the polished marble floor. From this dizzying height, the city below seemed to hum with an oblivious tranquility, its myriad ant-like inhabitants scurrying through their mundane lives. But inside the office, despite the pervasive sunlight, the air was ice-cold, permeated by the faint, metallic scent of ozone from the silent, powerful servers hidden within the walls. It was a space designed for power, for detachment, for absolute control.James Whitaker stood rigidly at the head of the impossibly long glass table, its surface gleaming like a frozen lake. His hands were pressed flat against the cool, slick expanse, his fingers splayed, the knuckles stark white against the dark lines of his tailored suit. His gaze was fixed, unblinking, on the massive, translucent screen embedded in the opposite wall, currently displa

The faint, ethereal glow of dawn filtered reluctantly through the hospital room’s blinds, casting long, pale lines of muted light across the pristine floor. The sterile scent of disinfectant, usually so oppressive, seemed softened by the emerging light, mingling faintly with the delicate, almost imperceptible fragrance of lilies. The rhythmic, steady beeping of the heart monitor was a quiet sentinel, a constant, comforting counterpoint to the profound stillness that had settled over the room.Evelyn stirred again, a slow, almost imperceptible movement, her body a dull, generalized ache, a heavy weight pinned to the bed. Her mind, still groggy from medication and the lingering effects of the concussion, felt sluggish, wrapped in a cottony haze. Her lips were parched, a raw dryness that made swallowing a minor effort, and her throat felt rough, as if she had swallowed sand.A sudden, gentle warmth brushed against her arm, a soft, reassuring pressure. A hand, large and familiar, gently a

Vinni and Adrian had stepped out, their voices a faint echo from the hallway as they debated the merits of different coffee beans. Edwin had excused himself to make a few urgent calls, the corporate world still demanding his attention even amidst personal crisis. Evelyn was alone again, left to the rhythmic, comforting hum of the heart monitor and the quiet peace of solitary recovery. She drifted in and out of a light, uneasy sleep, her body still aching with every small shift, her mind still replaying fragments of the crash. The soft, almost imperceptible creak of the door broke the silence. Evelyn’s eyelids fluttered, a subconscious awareness of another presence. Soft, deliberate heels clicked across the polished linoleum floor, a sound too light for Hunter, too precise for Vinni. “Evy…” That voice. Silken. Familiar. Saccharine, yet with an underlying current that always set Evelyn’s teeth on edge. Evelyn’s eyes opened slowly, a profound weariness settling over her. Her chest t

The harsh fluorescent lights of the hospital hallway did little to pierce the suffocating darkness that enveloped Hunter. He sat hunched in the unforgiving plastic chair outside Evelyn’s room, the sterile air doing nothing to calm the tempest raging within him. Guilt gnawed at his insides, a relentless acid. Love, a fragile ember amidst the ashes of their trust, flickered precariously. And beneath it all, a fierce, burning resolve: to prove his innocence. Hours bled into each other. The rhythmic beeping of unseen machines, the hushed whispers of nurses, the distant wail of an ambulance – they all formed a disjointed symphony of his despair. He replayed the last few weeks, searching for a moment, a sign, anything that could have led them here. Sophia. Her name was a bitter taste on his tongue. He had dismissed her clinginess, her over-the-top compliments, her sudden appearances. He had been so blind, so focused on his work, on them, that he hadn't seen the viper in their garden.The

Hunter’s footsteps echoed hollowly in the otherwise silent hospital corridor. The sterile scent of antiseptic clung to him, a bitter reminder of Evelyn’s pain, and his own culpability in it. Her words, sharp and laced with a justifiable bitterness, replayed in his mind: "Our marriage was a one-sided street… I have nothing to do with you." Each syllable was a fresh wound. But beneath the crushing weight of guilt and despair, a cold, hard resolve had taken root. Sophia. He was going to expose her, no matter the cost.The ride home was a blur. His mind raced, replaying every interaction with Sophia, every subtle manipulation, every dismissed gut feeling. He had been so blind, so stupidly trusting. He clutched Evelyn’s phone, the images burned into his memory, the insidious proof of Sophia’s treachery. He had to make her pay. More importantly, he had to clear his name, not just for his own sake, but for Evelyn. He yearned for the impossible—to rewind time, to undo his neglect, to erase So