Semua Bab My Billionaire Ex-husband Won't Call It Quit: Bab 71 - Bab 80

Safehouse, Geneva – 11:47 PM Griffin slept soundly in the next room, his breathing soft and even, monitored by the discreet medical equipment James had arranged. Moonlight filtered through bulletproof glass, casting long shadows across the Alpine chalet's living area where Maria, James, and I hunched over blueprints and documents spread across a heavy oak table. Outside, the wind whispered through pine trees, masking the subtle sounds of the security team patrolling the perimeter—professionals James had hired from his days working in high-risk markets in Southeast Asia."Michael's lawyers are already filing motions to challenge Griffin's medical autonomy," Maria muttered, tapping a freshly delivered legal brief with a perfectly manicured nail. The red lacquer caught the light from the lamp overhead, looking almost black in the dim room. "Claims you're unfit to decide. That you've been influenced by 'radical medical privacy advocates' and are endangering Griffin's life by denying him

Safe House, Geneva – 11:47 PM Griffin slept soundly in the next room, his breathing soft and even, monitored by the discreet medical equipment James had arranged. Moonlight filtered through bulletproof glass, casting long shadows across the Alpine chalet's living area where Maria, James, and I hunched over blueprints and documents spread across a heavy oak table. Outside, the wind whispered through pine trees, masking the subtle sounds of the security team patrolling the perimeter—professionals James had hired from his days working in high-risk markets in Southeast Asia."Michael's lawyers are already filing motions to challenge Griffin's medical autonomy," Maria muttered, tapping a freshly delivered legal brief with a perfectly manicured nail. The red lacquer caught the light from the lamp overhead, looking almost black in the dim room. "Claims you're unfit to decide. That you've been influenced by 'radical medical privacy advocates' and are endangering Griffin's life by denying hi

Villa on Santorini – Midnight The safehouse was supposed to be untraceable. A whitewashed villa clinging to the volcanic cliffs of Santorini, purchased through seven layers of shell corporations, paid for with cryptocurrency routed through anonymizing services even the NSA struggled to crack. The deed was held by a blind trust administered by a law firm that didn't know my name, in a country that took privacy seriously enough to resist even Michael's most aggressive investigations.Yet the envelope on Griffin's pillow bore no postmark, no address—just a silver wax seal with the Coleman crest impressed into it, the stylized "C" encircled by laurel leaves that had adorned everything from the letterhead of Michael's company to the cufflinks he had worn the day we married. A seal I had watched him press into countless documents during our marriage, his signet ring a family heirloom dating back to his great-grandfather.A seal that should have been at the bottom of the Persian Gulf, alon

Swiss Alps – 3:17 AM The abandoned research facility hummed with residual power, frost crackling under our boots as we moved through the darkened corridor. Outside, the Alpine night pressed against the reinforced windows like a living thing—black and absolute, the stars obscured by the gathering storm clouds that had nearly grounded our helicopter. The mountain peaks surrounding us created a natural fortress, isolating this place from the world below. Perfect for secrets. Perfect for monsters.Griffin's breath came in white puffs as he pressed the key into the rusted lock of the main security door. His hands—so much like Michael's in shape, yet so different in their gentleness—trembled slightly, though whether from the cold or anticipation, I couldn't tell. At fourteen, he seemed both too young for this burden and somehow ancient with knowledge no child should possess."It shouldn't work," he muttered, more to himself than to us. "After all this time, the electronic systems should b

Phoenix Lab – 9:01 AM The helicopter touched down three hundred yards from the facility entrance, the rotor wash sending up a blinding cloud of snow that provided perfect cover for our approach. Griffin had insisted on returning, and neither Maria's tears nor my logical arguments had swayed him. In the end, it was James who had settled the matter."The kid's right," he'd said quietly, checking the ammunition in his sidearm. "This ends today. One way or another."Now, as we moved through the facility's corridors—Griffin leading with unerring confidence, James and I flanking him while Maria monitored communications from the helicopter—I felt time compressing around us. Five years of building Lane International from the ashes of my former life. Three years of legal battles against Michael. Eighteen months since his arrest and conviction. All leading to this moment, this confrontation.We reached the hidden laboratory corridor just as the facility's security system registered another en