Semua Bab My Billionaire Husband Doesn’t Love Me: Bab 181 - Bab 190

Isabelle’s POV The weight of the last few days lingered like a storm cloud, heavy and unrelenting. Every time I glanced at Nathan, my chest tightened with a mixture of relief and guilt. He was home, safe, but the questions surrounding his disappearance were far from resolved. I sat at the breakfast table, watching him eat his cereal with a sleepy, half-hearted enthusiasm. His curls stuck to his forehead, and his small hands clutched the spoon like it was the most important task in the world. “Mommy?” he asked, his voice breaking through my haze. I blinked, leaning forward. “Yes, sweetheart?” “Are we going to the park today?” he asked, tilting his head. The simplicity of his request struck me. After everything, he just wanted to go to the park—back to normalcy. I wanted that for him too, but nothing about this felt normal. “We’ll see, baby,” I said gently, brushing a stray curl off his forehead. “Mommy has some things to do today, but maybe later.” His face fell sligh

Isabelle’s POV The weight of the anonymous message hadn’t lessened. If anything, it grew heavier with each passing hour. “Kaia and Walter are closer than you think. Be careful.” It lingered at the forefront of my mind as I walked into my office the next morning, the hum of business as usual doing little to distract me. Stephanie greeted me with her usual efficiency, but I barely heard her rundown of the day’s agenda. My focus was elsewhere—on the puzzle pieces slowly falling into place. Kaia and Walter. It wasn’t just about them being ruthless or manipulative. That, I could handle. But the idea of them working together was a different beast entirely. If they were united, it meant they had a shared goal. And that goal had to involve me. I needed answers. After ensuring I wouldn’t be disturbed, I locked my office door and spread out the documents Stephanie had gathered on Kaia Carter. Her background, her business dealings, her personal life—it was all there. But wh

Walter’s POV The world respected power, and I had spent my entire life ensuring no one forgot mine. The sprawling skyline outside my office window was a testament to everything I had built. Ryder Industries wasn’t just a company—it was an empire. One that required careful management, sharp decisions, and sometimes…removing obstacles. And right now, Isabelle Everett was an obstacle. She was a thorn in my son’s side, a threat to my company, and a distraction Damion couldn’t seem to let go of. Her return to the city had set off a chain of events I couldn’t ignore, and her resilience—her refusal to crumble under pressure—was beginning to irritate me. She thought she could outmaneuver me. She couldn’t. Kaia sat across from me in my office, her legs crossed, her expression calm but watchful. I valued Kaia for her ambition, her intelligence, her ability to play the long game. She was everything Isabelle wasn’t—controlled, pragmatic, ruthless. And yet, I couldn’t shake the

Isabelle’s POV The city skyline stretched out beyond the restaurant windows, a glittering illusion of peace. Inside, soft music played, waiters moved smoothly between tables, and elegant laughter filled the air. It was the kind of place designed to make people forget their troubles. But I wasn’t here to forget. I was here to remind Damion that he didn’t own me. Brian sat across from me, his expression warm but observant. He had dressed well—dark suit, open collar, the perfect balance of casual and refined. He looked like a man who had his life together. A man who wasn’t haunted by the past. Unlike Damion. “So,” Brian said, leaning forward slightly. “You never did tell me why you suddenly wanted to have dinner.” I smiled, swirling my wine glass. “Can’t a woman enjoy good food with a good friend?” His eyes flickered with something unreadable. “You can. But you’re not the type to do anything without a reason.” I took a slow sip of my wine, letting the silence stretch

Isabelle’s POV The air between us was thick—suffocating. Damion stood so close I could feel the heat radiating off his body, his eyes locked onto mine like I was something he was about to devour. His breathing was rough, his fists clenched at his sides as if he was restraining himself from doing something reckless. “Tell me to leave,” he repeated, his voice low, controlled—but barely. I wanted to. I needed to. But the words wouldn’t come. I hated him for what he did to me—for tearing my life apart, for betraying me in ways I still wasn’t sure I’d ever recover from. And yet, my body remembered him in ways I wished it didn’t. The way his touch had once been my solace. The way he could ignite something deep inside me with just a glance. I hated him for that, too. So I did the only thing I could. I let my anger consume me. I laughed. A sharp, bitter sound. “You want me to tell you to leave?” I shook my head, my voice cold. “You don’t deserve to be here, Damion. Y