All Chapters of After Divorcing My Ex-husband, I Returned And Shined: Chapter 101 - Chapter 110

MICHELL POVAudrey was different tonight.Not in an obvious way—she still carried herself with that quiet, stubborn grace, her chin lifted just enough to defy the world without seeming like she was trying. But something in her eyes had shifted.Something I couldn’t name.As I carried Amelia upstairs, I could feel the slow, steady rhythm of her breathing against my chest, the warmth of her small body curling instinctively into mine. She was exhausted. Happy, but exhausted.Audrey had that effect on her. On both of us.Once in Amelia’s room, I laid her down gently, brushing a few loose strands from her face before pulling the blanket over her. She sighed in her sleep, murmuring something I couldn’t quite make out.A part of me wanted to stay, to watch over her a little longer. But my thoughts were elsewhere—downstairs.With her.I found Audrey still standing in the dimly lit hallway when I returned. She hadn’t moved. Her fingers trailed absently over the edge of the console table, her e

AUDREY POVThe morning light streamed through the curtains, casting golden streaks across the sheets. I should have felt warm, safe even, but the moment I reached for my phone, the illusion shattered. 17 unread messages. 5 emails. All from Harold. My jaw tightened. I didn’t need to open them to know what they said. Apologies coated in nostalgia. Carefully placed words meant to stir something in me. Maybe even an “I miss you” thrown in at just the right moment, as if that would somehow erase the past. I hovered over the first message, then— Delete.One by one, his words vanished, just like he should have years ago. I set the phone down, exhaling. Then it rang. A number I didn’t recognize. No, that wasn’t true. I knew this number. I just hadn’t seen since before my surgery. The cold weight in my stomach settled deep as I stared at the screen. Then, slowly, I pressed accept.“Audrey,” the voice purred through the speaker, silk-thin and sharp enough to cut. “It’s been

MICHELL POV.I snapped a picture of the wristwatch first, making sure the gold crest emblem was sharp and clear in the frame. Then, carefully, I pulled a handkerchief from my pocket. No way in hell was I going to leave my fingerprints on this. If Victor was involved, I wasn’t about to make it easier for him to twist this into something else. Using the cloth, I lifted the watch, turning it over in my hands. It was old, worn in places, but still held an air of prestige—something only a man with status, or one desperate to prove he had it, would wear.My jaw tightened. Victor had no need to claw his way up the ranks. He was already born into power. So why the hell did he have this? I exhaled through my nose, then wrapped the wristwatch in the handkerchief before slipping it into my pocket. If Victor had anything to do with Emilio’s death—if he had a hand in taking away the only person who ever truly gave a damn about me—then he was already living on borrowed time.I turned towar

AUDREY POVThe faint echo of pointe shoes tapping against the polished studio floor filled the air, rhythmic and sharp like raindrops on a quiet street. I watched my students from across the room, arms folded, hearts quietly swelling as they moved—some clumsily, some gracefully—but all of them were trying. That was what mattered. That was always what mattered.It had been a good week. No, a great one.Just two days ago, I sat behind the velvet-draped judge’s panel at one of the biggest ballet competitions in the country. Me—a judge. I still caught myself blinking in disbelief sometimes. If someone had told the Audrey from years ago that this would be her life... she probably would’ve laughed and danced away.A soft smile tugged at my lips as I corrected a young girl’s posture with a gentle nudge of her shoulder. “Lift your chin, Elina. You’re a star, not a shadow. Let them see you.”She nodded with wide eyes, absorbing every word like gospel. That was what I loved about teaching—see

MICHELL POV.The afternoon sunlight bled through my office window, a gold-tinged warmth that didn’t reach the ice tightening in my chest.My phone buzzed.Father.I let it ring once before answering. “Yes?”“Come to the estate,” he said without preamble. “Victor’s here.”I stood slowly. “Why?”There was a pause. “Because I asked him to be. And I want you both present.”He hung up.I stared at the silent phone for a beat, jaw locked. Then I grabbed my jacket and left.By the time I stepped into the drawing room of the estate, the sun had begun to crawl lower behind the tall arched windows, casting long shadows over the polished floor. The silence of the room was only broken by the quiet ticking of the grandfather clock—the kind of silence that didn’t soothe, only stretched tension taut like a wire.I found him in the sitting room, legs crossed like he belonged there, his blazer casually draped over the side of the armchair. His fingers tapped lightly against his glass of scotch. He w