Semua Bab RUTHLESS BILLIONAIRE EX-HUSBAND CHASED ME BACK: Bab 61 - Bab 70

The morning sun streamed through the cracked blinds of the safe house, casting fractured patterns on the wooden floor. I sat at the rickety table, nursing a cup of lukewarm coffee, my mind a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts. Nolan lounged on the couch, flipping through an old magazine, his presence a constant reminder of the precarious situation I found myself in.I couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to Jeff's actions than met the eye. The revelation of his involvement with my father had shattered my trust, but a nagging voice in the back of my mind urged me to dig deeper. I needed answers, and I needed them now."Nolan," I began, my voice steady despite the turmoil within, "I need to see Jeff. Alone."He looked up from his magazine, an eyebrow raised in amusement. "Alone? That's not part of our arrangement, sweetheart."I clenched my jaw, resisting the urge to snap back. "This isn't about our arrangement. It's personal."He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees

The days following our exposé of Nolan and Lorenzo were a whirlwind. Media outlets buzzed with the revelations, and the corporate world was reeling from the aftershocks. Amidst the chaos, Jeff and I found ourselves working side by side, sifting through the remnants of my father's empire, determining what could be salvaged and what needed to be rebuilt from the ground up.One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm amber glow over the city, Jeff and I sat in my father's old study. The room, once a place of solace for me, now felt like a war room, strewn with documents, blueprints, and strategic plans."Demi," Jeff began, his voice softer than usual, "you've been pushing yourself too hard. You need to rest."I looked up from the papers, surprised by the gentle concern in his eyes. "There's too much to do, Jeff. We can't afford to slow down now."He leaned closer, his hand brushing mine as he reached for a document. The contact was brief, but it sent an unexpected sh

The note said everything and nothing at once.It was written in Jeff’s usual, maddeningly vague way — careful phrases that danced around the truth but never quite landed. Apologies that didn’t dig deep enough. Promises that sounded too much like the ones he used to make when things were already unraveling.Still, I kept it.Tucked away in the back of my desk drawer, behind quarterly reports and receipts I never filed. I told myself it didn’t mean anything. That it wasn’t important. That it was just paper.But the truth?I reread it every morning before I started work.And every time, I hated how it made me feel.Like I missed him.Like some small, treacherous part of me still wondered what might’ve been if things had gone differently.The flowers stayed, too. I told myself I didn’t throw them away because I was too busy, but deep down, I knew the real reason.They were proof.Proof that maybe Jeff was still trying.And I wasn’t ready to admit what that meant to me.It didn’t stop ther

The office was unusually quiet that afternoon, save for the rhythmic tapping of my pen against the desk. The bouquet of white tulips Jeff had sent earlier that week had begun to wilt, their once vibrant petals now drooping—a visual metaphor for my dwindling patience. The unanswered questions, the lingering glances, the unsolicited gifts—it was all becoming too much. I needed clarity, and there was only one way to get it.I picked up my phone, my thumb hovering over Jeff's contact. Before I could overthink it, I pressed 'Call'. The line rang twice before his familiar voice answered."Demi?""Jeff, we need to talk. Can you meet me at the park near the office in an hour?"There was a pause, then a soft sigh. "I'll be there."The park bench was cold beneath me, the late afternoon breeze carrying the scent of blooming flowers and freshly cut grass. I spotted Jeff approaching from the corner of my eye, his hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket, his expression unreadable.He sat down b

The days following my conversation with Jeff were a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. His confession had reopened wounds I thought had healed, leaving me questioning everything. I needed clarity, and there was only one person I trusted to provide an unfiltered perspective: Chelsea.​We met at our favorite café, a cozy nook nestled between towering office buildings. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee mingled with the scent of baked pastries, creating a comforting atmosphere. Chelsea was already seated at our usual corner table, her eyes scanning the menu.​"Hey," I greeted, sliding into the seat across from her.​She looked up, a smile spreading across her face. "Hey yourself. You look like you haven't slept in days."​I sighed, stirring the sugar into my coffee. "That's because I haven't. It's Jeff."​Chelsea's expression shifted to one of concern. "What did he do now?"​I recounted our conversation in the park, detailing his admission of regret and his desire to rekindle what we onc