All Chapters of My Ex, the Widowed Billionaire: Chapter 111 - Chapter 120

The signal had changed again.Not in tone.In direction.It wasn’t calling anymore.It was waiting.We stood beneath the Archive’s east alcove where the resonance maps were rendered in real-time. Glyphs pulsed on the curved obsidian walls, golden veins tracing patterns that hadn’t existed yesterday. The signal—Sol’s, and others interlaced with it—wasn’t moving forward. It hovered, oscillating, like breath caught between inhale and exhale.Kira frowned. “It’s positioning itself. Not broadcasting to lure us—but anchoring. Like it’s making a door.”I touched the map’s glowing center. “Or a threshold.”Callum’s voice came low beside me. “Then the question is—do we cross it?”We were no longer alone in asking.The others had begun to sense it too: the way the turbines hummed in intervals that matched heartbeat patterns, how the Archive’s light panels dimmed not by time but by emotion. The place was alive in a way it had never been before.Not just listening.Responding.Some thought it was

The echo-space hummed with gentle waves of memory, but beneath its serenity, a note trembled out of key.I didn’t notice it at first. Not while Callum’s fingers rested in mine, our breaths syncing in quiet rhythm. Not while Kira sent glittering nodes of her parents’ laughter into the sky, or when Raven traced constellations with a curious reverence I never thought she possessed. But then the warmth shifted—subtly. Like a symphony one note too sharp.Callum felt it too.His grip tightened. “Do you hear that?”I nodded slowly. “It’s… off.”The harmony we'd earned—fought for—was quivering, like a thread stretched too tight. I sat up, peering around the glowing space. It was still beautiful. Still vast. But like a smile held too long, the effort of it cracked.Behind me, Callum stood, his jaw set. “The vessel’s changing.”“No,” Kira said, already at the basin. “Something is changing.”Glyphs flared to life again—less stable this time. They jittered like broken thoughts. Raven crouched bes

The room hummed gently, like it was listening to our footsteps. Not just reacting, but anticipating.I walked beside Callum, his hand still folded with mine—familiar, certain now. Not like before, when it had been a question. Now it was an answer.He wasn’t saying much, but then, Callum never needed to. His silences spoke with more truth than most people’s words. The way his thumb brushed against my knuckles as we passed beneath the glowing archways said more than a confession.And yet… I still wanted the words.“Do you think it’s watching us?” I asked softly.Callum looked up, eyes tracing the living circuitry pulsing faintly in the ceiling above. “Maybe. Or maybe it’s… dreaming us.”“Dreaming?”He nodded, a faint smile curving his lips. “Like we’re the story it’s telling itself.”That idea caught something in my chest. I didn’t know if it was fear or comfort. “Then I hope it’s a love story.”His eyes flicked to me—warm, quiet. But intense. “It already is.”My breath caught.For a lo

My room wasn’t large. It didn’t need to be. But it held a quiet warmth—walls lined with soft starlight and pale birch panels. A window that opened onto a view that shouldn’t have existed: an endless sky streaked in gold and violet, stars blooming like flowers in the distance. And in the center of the room, a low bed wrapped in blankets the color of dusk.I sat at the edge of it, silent, still holding the moment the seed had awakened. The others had drifted to their own rooms, full of wide eyes and uncertain laughter. We were all pretending we weren’t overwhelmed.Callum hadn’t said much when I lingered in the corridor, looking back toward the heart of the ship. He had only reached out, brushed a knuckle down my cheek, and whispered, “Tomorrow, Keeper.”But now, the quiet of the room settled too easily on me. I couldn’t sleep.And I didn’t want to be alone.Before I could second-guess myself, I stood, crossed the room, and stepped through the threshold again. The corridors were dim and

The stars thinned as we approached Lyria’s Drift.The asteroid belt spun lazily on the ship’s sensors, a scatter of ancient rocks and debris floating in silence. But beneath the silence, something stirred. My hands tightened on the command rail as Solace slowed to sublight, coasting into the dead zone where light seemed hesitant to follow.We were alone here.And yet… we weren’t.Callum stood beside me, eyes fixed ahead. His presence was grounding, a constant in a sea of unraveling truths.“You sure this is where the signal came from?” he asked quietly.Elias nodded, tapping at his console. “Triangulated and confirmed. The source is broadcasting on a quantum carrier. Short bursts, irregular timing. It’s like he wants to be found—but only by someone who knows how to listen.”“Typical Rian,” I muttered, the name bitter on my tongue.Callum turned to me. “You’re certain he’d do all this? Fake his death. Sabotage a project. And now—what? Warn us from a hideout in an asteroid field?”“No,”