All Chapters of Traded For His First Love : Chapter 131 - Chapter 140

Reese POVThe silence in the house was a crushing weight, every empty corner a cruel reminder of Sammy, Avie, and Elliot, who were no longer here. I was curled up on the couch, my eyes swollen from crying, the phone silent after countless unanswered calls to Elliot and the devastating conversation with Josh, who confirmed that Elliot had quit and was planning to return to London. The pain of losing my children was a tightness in my chest, a wound that throbbed with every breath, and the guilt—for hiding the truth about Avie, for not trusting Elliot—was suffocating. When I heard the sound of keys in the door, my heart leapt, but it wasn’t Elliot. It was Alice, and beside her, Connor, the two of them inseparable now, like a shadow of light in the midst of my chaos.Alice rushed to me, arms open, and I threw myself into her embrace, sobs returning with force. “Venus, my God,” she murmured, holding me tightly against her chest, her warmth a stark contrast to the cold consuming me. “I’m h

Elliot POVThe interior of the private jet felt smaller with each passing hour, the space cramped not by its size but by the suffocating presence of Jennifer Durham. The hum of the engines was a constant drone,steady noise, but it didn’t drown out the sound of her voice, sharp as a blade, as she berated a flight attendant. “This is lukewarm coffee,” she said, pushing the cup back at the young woman, whose face flushed with embarrassment. “What do you think I am? An economy passenger? Bring me another, and make it decent this time.” The attendant mumbled an apology, hurrying to the back of the plane, while Jennifer rolled her eyes, adjusting her pearl necklace with an exaggerated flourish.I watched her from my seat, anger simmering beneath the surface. Jennifer was insufferable, always had been, but now, with her haughty demeanor, she seemed determined to make every second of this flight a living hell. She leaned toward one of the other staff, a man organizing the bar, and pointed

Reese POVThe plane landed in New York with a jolt, the impact snapping me out of the daze I’d been in since leaving Chicago. My small, rain-soaked bag was clutched tightly against my chest, as if it were the only thing keeping me whole. The JFK terminal was a chaos of voices, dragging suitcases, and blinding lights, but it all felt distant, muffled by the one thing consuming my mind: Sammy and Avie, in London with Elliot, so far from me. I had to get to them, had to fix what my lies—about Avie, about Sammy’s custody—had destroyed. Every second standing still was torture, but my body screamed for a moment’s pause, for something to keep me going.I dragged myself to a terminal café, the smell of burnt coffee mixing with the hiss of an espresso machine. “Black coffee, please,” I muttered to the barista, a bored-looking kid who barely glanced at me. My voice was hoarse, my eyes swollen from crying, and I knew I looked a mess, with wet hair plastered to my face and a drenched coat. Whi

Elliot POVThe bedroom was exactly as I remembered it, as if time had frozen since the last time I was here with Reese. The heavy blue velvet curtains, the canopied bed with its carved mahogany frame, the Persian rug she loved because it was “too soft to resist.” Every detail was a knife, slicing deeper into the longing I tried, but couldn’t, suppress. This London mansion, where I grew up, where I fell in love with Reese, where our marriage crumbled, carried the weight of all our promises and failures. When I moved to Chicago, I swore to myself I’d only return to this room with her, that we’d fix everything, that we’d be a family again. But here I was, alone, with Sammy and Avie sleeping in the guest room, Jennifer infesting the house like poison, and Reese an ocean away, perhaps hating me as much as I loved her.I lay on the bed, the mattress yielding under my weight, and the scent of fresh linens mixed with the faint lavender aroma of the house enveloped me. I closed my eyes, and

Reese POVThe gate of the Goodwin mansion loomed before me like a barrier, but I held my head high, even as the weight of the past dragged me down. Each step on the gravel driveway echoed like a drum, stirring memories of the darkest days of my life—the fights with Elliot, Florence’s disdain, the betrayal that culminated in our divorce and the loss of Sammy. This house, with its white columns and dark windows, was a tomb for my shattered dreams, but it was also where Sammy and Avie were, my children, my reason for living. For them, I would face any terror, any pain. I adjusted my cardigan, took a deep breath, and rang the bell, the sound cutting through the silence like a warning.The door opened slowly, and there was Elliot, his green eyes that I loved now hard, heavy with anger and hurt. He crossed his arms, blocking the entrance, and the weight of our past crashed over me like a wave. My heart, already broken by his betrayal—fleeing with the kids, aligning with Jennifer—wept, but