Billionaire Ex Wants Her Back . のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 31 - チャプター 40

Michael's point of view I sat in the study, the firelight casting long shadows against the shelves, licking the edges of the leather-bound history I had inherited but never asked for. The glass in my hand sweated beneath my fingers. Bourbon—something sharp and heavy enough to anchor the mess clawing at my chest.Danielle’s perfume still clung to the air. Something floral, but grounded. Like her—elegant, poised, yet rooted in something too real for the world I’d tried to fit her into. I’d watched her tonight. Really watched her. She was unraveling, but not in the way I expected. Not from weakness. From strength. It should have pleased me.It didn’t.The door creaked open behind me.“Are you going to sit in the dark all night?” Vincent asked.I didn’t look at him. “Maybe.”He moved closer, poured himself a drink without asking. That’s how we operated—on habit, not invitation.“She’s slipping through your fingers,” he said after a beat.I turned slowly. “You think I don’t know that?”“S

Michael's point of viewThe hallway lights flickered once as I leaned against the polished marble column, the low hum of the chandelier above me swinging in rhythm with the silence Danielle left behind. Her scent still lingered in the space, sharp like defiance and warm like grief. I had memorized the sound of her heels—three clicks short of the door, then nothing. She hadn’t looked back.My fingers curled tighter around the glass I hadn’t sipped. The whiskey burned more in thought than taste.I had seen it in her eyes before she left: not anger. Worse. Restraint. She hadn’t yelled, hadn’t fought. She had walked away with grace carved from stone. That was how I knew I’d gone too far.Ed's voice echoed in my head, something he'd said weeks ago, about knowing when to stop testing the fire before you end up burned. But I had struck matches for years. It was how I controlled the chaos. It was how I learned who people truly were.But Danielle? She was the first person who refused to flinch

Danielle's Point of ViewThe rain painted the glass in streaks, soft drumming tapping against the tall windows of Michael's study. The fire crackled in the hearth, but no warmth reached me. I stood at the far end of the room, arms wrapped around myself, watching the storm blur the night into nothing. The silence between us had stretched for too long, taut like a string on the edge of snapping.Michael was behind me, his presence unmistakable even in silence. I didn’t need to turn to know his posture—hands in his pockets, gaze fixed, unreadable. The way he looked at me lately... like he was seeing more than I wanted him to. Like he was waiting for something I hadn't decided to give."You haven’t said a word in hours," he finally murmured.His voice didn’t startle me. It never did. It crawled beneath my skin, settled there, and stayed."What would you like me to say?" I asked, my voice low, almost swallowed by the storm.He didn’t answer immediately. I heard the faint creak of the leath

Danielle’s Point of ViewThe wind howled outside the mansion as if echoing the storm inside me. I stood at the edge of the hallway, the lights dim, casting long shadows along the marble floors. Michael hadn’t returned since the meeting. Hours had passed, and each second dug its claws deeper into my chest. Something was wrong. I felt it not in my mind, but in the quiet protest of my bones, in the chill that refused to leave my skin.The staff moved like ghosts around me, their eyes dropping whenever I passed. They knew something, or maybe they sensed it too. The air felt heavy, like it was holding its breath with me.My phone buzzed on the console table beside the stairs. I didn’t rush. I couldn’t. My body was too tightly wound, my heart too loud in my ears. I picked it up slowly, the screen casting a pale glow against my face. One message. One name.Leo."It’s done. The board’s vote was unanimous. He’s out."I didn’t breathe. I stared at the words until they blurred. My thumb hovered

Michael's point of viewThe rain came in thin sheets, slicking the windows and whispering against the glass like a confession no one wanted to make. My fingers curled tighter around the edge of the desk, knuckles paling beneath the tension. Danielle hadn’t returned my last call. Or the one before that. Silence from her wasn't unfamiliar, but it never came without a price.The office light cast sharp angles across the dark wood of the room. Everything around me was too clean, too still. The kind of quiet that made you realize something had shifted—subtly, but irrevocably.A knock disrupted the hush. It was soft, hesitant."Come in," I said, voice even, betraying nothing.Eliza stepped in, her posture too straight, her face too controlled. That alone made my chest tighten. Eliza never walked on eggshells unless there was something sharp beneath her feet."She went to the old estate," she said, pausing just long enough for her words to sting. "Alone."I didn’t answer. I pushed the chair